


continually you

by sowlmate (blatherskite)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, BokuAka as Platonic Soulmates, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Bokuto Koutarou is a Good Friend, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Fluff, Getting Together, Kozume Kenma is a Good Friend, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pining, Sharing Clothes, Slow Burn, at least as compliant as I can manage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25660999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blatherskite/pseuds/sowlmate
Summary: During his third year of university, Akaashi decides he needs to try dating again, though it's something that has always been a struggle for him. Alternatively: when Kuroo Tetsuro unexpectedly tumbles back into his life.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 51
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

“—shi-kun?”

…

“Akaashi-kun?”

Akaashi’s focus snaps back to the girl sitting in front of him, one of her brows is arched with her head tilted to the side. Her fingers are firmly gripping the mug before her on their shared table. “Akaashi-kun, are you alright?”

Akaashi hums, dragging himself back to reality before he can get lost deeper in his own thoughts - he didn’t want to be there, not really. However, not wanting to be rude, he lets a quick lie roll off his tongue.

“Ah, sorry. I was just admiring that painting over there,” he says with a nod of the head in the direction he’s indicating. The girl straightens up and glances over her shoulder. On the far wall is a hand painted landscape of mountains, a welcoming blue sky, and large, fluffy, white clouds. “It’s beautiful. Very peaceful to look at, don’t you agree?”

When the girl turns back, Akaashi feigns a smile before lifting his own mug to take a sip of his coffee - black and bitter; bitter, like how his tongue already tastes after lying to the poor girl in front of him.

It was out of obligation that he found himself sitting before her, his _date_. But it was an obligation he instilled himself rather than having succumbed to the pressure of some external source.

Now when he claims that he’s there out of obligation, it all boils down to his personal feelings. He’s the type of individual who can’t see himself starting a relationship with someone he doesn’t know. However, he finds that he keeps pushing himself, hoping that maybe one day everything will just magically _click_.

It never does.

And yet, he keeps trying.

On days where he’s feeling restless, he’ll open a dating app and swipe through profile after profile. Right on some, left on others. For the few he swipes right on, and the seemingly fewer that have swiped right on him as well, hardly any communication builds between himself and the other party.

He knows it’s his fault though. Every time he feels a surge of ‘okay, you can do this,’ it instantly fades once he has to deal with the attention he’s receiving. The attention he willingly sought out.

_What is wrong with me?_

He finds himself thinking that more often than not as he exchanges at most five messages with someone before unmatching them without a second thought.

He doesn’t exactly know _what_ he’s chasing, and yet he continues chasing it.

And then when he gets as far as he is now, sitting across from a date who looks less and less enthused the longer they’re in each other’s company, he can’t help but wonder why he keeps putting himself through this. Why he keeps putting _other people_ through this.

_It’s probably harder for them than it is for me_ , he thinks as he takes another sip from his coffee, half paying attention and absentmindedly nodding along as his date drones on about something or other. _They always look so dejected when the time comes for us to part ways. Why do I keep doing this?_ _Why do I keep knowingly hurting other people on top of hurting myself?_

The thing is, he thinks, is that he wants to feel that sort of connection with someone. He wants to feel understood and cherished and wanted. He wants to feel the loneliness that’s been building over the past three years since he graduated from high school… _wash away_.

He craves it to a degree, and yet… his mind refuses to let him obtain it.

He never understood the appeal of one-night stands, or starting to date mere days after meeting. He also silently thanks every god he can think of for his parents not being the type of people that try to constantly set him up or arrange meetings with others his age. He doesn’t think he could handle dragging his parent’s disappointment into the mix on top of everything else. He’s especially grateful they hadn’t thought to ask him about any potential future partners as he visited home to celebrate Christmas and ring in the new year with them.

He doesn’t understand wasting his energy, time, and heart for a _chance_ at happiness. And yet, he keeps trying over, and over, and over again. Thinking that maybe _this_ time he’ll feel something bloom inside him.

As he sits there, watching his date finish her coffee and dig through her bag in order to pull out her phone, he wonders if that time will ever come.

***

Once Akaashi bids his date a good night at the station having made sure she got there safely, he turns and begins his trek back to his own apartment. It isn’t far from where they had agreed to meet up, thankfully, but a little further from where he currently starts.

He heaves a sigh, though truthfully, he doesn’t mind. The slightly longer journey home gives him time to process his thoughts and sort them in a way so he can mull everything over in an organized manner. Despite the girl looking as though she was enjoying herself, at least at the start, there was no talk of a second date. With a shrug of a shoulder, Akaashi figures he won’t need to worry about hearing from her again, aside from perhaps a quick message saying she made it home safe that he kindly requested from her before they parted.

As if on cue, Akaashi feels a vibration from his pocket, beckoning his hand to pull it out. He swipes his phone open when he sees it’s a notification from the dating app he had been using, and when the screen loads, a message is waiting for him from his date.

_I made it home safely! Thank you for taking me out, I had a nice time!_

Despite the exclamation points, there’s no real emotion behind her words. Akaashi figures if she had truly enjoyed her time, the message would have been accompanied by an emoji of some sort. Refraining from overthinking, he replies with a ‘ _Happy to hear it, and I did as well._ ’ Once the ‘sent’ text pops up beneath his text bubble, he repockets his phone and continues forward.

His phone doesn’t ping again with a follow up notification.

Before he knows it, he’s back inside his apartment. As he closes the door, he turns and presses his back to it with his brows furrowed and lets out a sigh. He remains there for a few minutes, head tilted back towards the ceiling with his eyes closed. Unsure of just how much time has passed, he brings his head back down and inhales through his nose, shaking his head clear of any further thoughts of the outing.

He pushes himself off the door then and spins on his heel, turning the knob and stepping out once more.

Just down the street and around the corner is a small bar, where he had found himself frequently over the past weekends as the semester was coming closer to an end.

As Akaashi approaches the bar, he momentarily bypasses the door and peers through the window to assess the crowd inside and decide on whether or not it’s worth having to deal with a crowd of people this late at night. To his delight, as he peers past the posters hanging from the glass, he counts only a handful of people meandering about between the bar and some of the booths aligning the walls. At this, he takes a couple steps back and chances grabbing the door’s handle and pulling it open, nose wrinkling at the wafting scents of alcohol and sweat that pool out accompanied by the sounds of laughter.

He steps in, a cold gust of wind following behind due to the draft he created opening the door. A shiver runs down his spine before the door shuts and the building’s warmth washes over him, forcing him to undo his jacket and scarf and slip them from his shoulders. He approaches the bar and takes a seat, folding his jacket over his lap and orders a beer when the tender asks what he’ll have.

There’s a quiet melody coming from an old jukebox positioned near the door that he can’t quite place. It sounds to be an instrumental cover of a song he heard maybe once or twice before, and after a minute or so of closing his eyes and listening, he shakes his head before giving up trying to name it.

It’s not important anyway.

With beer in hand, Akaashi pulls his phone out to keep himself company. There’s still no notification, but he decides to open the dating app regardless. Upon getting past the loading screen, his heart drops the slightest bit as he notices his matches are now empty. He refreshes the page, watching as the loading wheel confirms that his date had gone ahead and unmatched with him after letting him know she had made it home safe.

It shouldn’t bug him as much as it does, he tells himself, but that doesn’t stop the corners of his lips from tugging downward. He sets his beer down and mindlessly starts digging his thumb’s nail into the pads of his fingers. He goes down the line of them, curling his pinkie beneath his other three fingers when his thumb gets to it, and then starfishes his fingers before repeating the motion a few times. He shakes his hand after the third time and wipes it on the leg of his jeans before returning to his beer. As he picks it up to take a sip, he swipes from his match screen back to the main screen of the dating app and decides to see if there are any other potential matches out there for him to find.

He goes about this for a while: opening a profile, tapping through a set of photos, reading through some well-written, some not-so well-written, bios, and swiping only on a couple that just barely catch his attention. He sighs when none of them instantly pop up with an “It’s a Match!” screen, not that would change the outcome afterwards. He’d just end up in the same position he is now anyway.

Deciding to swap apps now that his drink is gone, he waves down the bartender for a refill and opens his internet browser to continue thumbing through the literature journal he had been perusing before it had been time to meet up with his date. About halfway through his second beer and article, he feels another breeze enter the building as the door opens. Sans jacket, he shivers and wonders what’s taking so long for whoever the hell is coming in to close the door. 

_Must be bringing the entire zoo in_ , he thinks as he picks up on the shuffling of several pairs of feet and numerous hushed voices making their way inside.

At last, warmth once again encompasses Akaashi’s being and he straightens up from the hunched over position he found himself in the longer he sat there. Just as he’s about to stretch his arms behind his back in hopes to crack it, he feels a firm hand slam down on his shoulder, scaring him just short of death. Whipping his upper body around with such a force that his glasses nearly fly off, Akaashi has every intention of demanding ‘what the hell?!’ when his eyes lock with an oh-too familiar pair of hazel ones, though they’re wide in surprise as opposed to the deviously narrow state Akaashi was more accustomed to.

“Well I’ll be god-damned,” the offender just about breathes out in what seems like utter disbelief before his eyes narrow back to the deceitful slits Akaashi was more familiar with, a smirk curling on his lips. “If it isn’t my second favourite setter in all of Japan.”

Akaashi deadpans and drags his hands from the bar top into his lap as he turns the remainder of the way on his stool to face the man he had least expected to see at the bar mid-Monday night.

“Kuroo-san,” he exhales, bowing his head, “it’s been a while.”

Upon raising his gaze, Akaashi notices the remainder of the “zoo” that had walked in just moments ago. Coming up to flank Kuroo are none other than some of the previous members of Karasuno’s volleyball team. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi all bow their heads as they greet him, and Akaashi does the same in return. He then notices a fifth party member shuffling behind Kuroo. The final individual tugs Kuroo’s arm up so he can duck beneath it and stand between the two of them. Hidden behind a facemask, sunglasses, and sporting a ballcap, Akaashi recognizes Kozume by his signature bleached tips.

Kozume removes his sunglasses and hangs them from the neckline of his shirt before bowing his head as well, letting out a quiet “Akaashi,” as he straightens back up.

Akaashi returns the final gesture before feeling the corners of his lips quirk upward upon witnessing Kuroo pat down on Kozume’s head trying to push him back out of the way.

“Do you want to join us, Akaashi?” Kozume asks before all but snarling in Kuroo’s direction, earning a step back in response from the former Nekoma captain, hands raised in the air signaling defeat.

“What’re you all up to?” Akaashi asks as he gathers his beer, phone, and jacket and slides off the stool, following the others to a booth on the opposite wall. Kuroo hangs behind at the bar, ordering drinks for everyone. Yachi, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima all squeeze into one side, and Kozume crawls into the seat opposite them. Akaashi slides in next to Kozume, leaving a spot open at the end for Kuroo to join. Akaashi’s gaze flicks to the lot of them, awaiting someone to speak up.

“Tsukki had a practice match today,” Yamaguchi chirps with a smile. “Yachi goes to university here in Tokyo, so we make sure to drag her along whenever we’re in the area.” 

Yachi nods happily along with Yamaguchi’s statement before adding, “And Yamaguchi comes down about once a month when everyone’s schedules sync up so we can all get together! We wanted to make sure we got one last meeting in before classes start back up and then finals.”

Akaashi raises his eyebrows in surprise, turning his attention to Tsukishima who holds his gaze for a moment before huffing. “You’re still playing volleyball then, Tsukishima?” Akaashi asks, smirk twisting on his lips. “I’m happy to hear that you overcame your whole ‘nothing more than a club’ stance. Good for you.”

“I mean, it _is_ still just a club,” Tsukishima mutters.

“Yeah, a professional one,” Yamaguchi interjects before his eyes break away from his best friend and glance in the direction of the bar. Before Akaashi can turn to see what caught his attention, Kuroo is already setting down glasses and passing them out.

“Alright, there’s beer for everyone. And a kahlua with milk for his majesty,” Kuroo announces as he nudges the aforementioned drink in front of Tsukishima before sitting with a curtsy. His thigh presses firmly against Akaashi’s as he squeezes onto the seat, and Akaashi looks between him and Kozume realizing there’s no room to scoot down any further lest he sit in Kozume’s lap.

Tsukishima shoots Kuroo a glare before grumbling his thanks and lifting his glass to take a sip. Everyone else follows suit, sipping from their beers before Kuroo turns to pat Akaashi on the shoulder once more, grinning ear to ear.

“So what’s Captain Apathy been up to all this time? I haven’t heard a peep from you since I graduated,” Kuroo chides, lifting his beer to take another sip. “That was what?” he draws his hand away from Akaashi’s shoulder to count on his fingers. “Almost four years ago now? Yeah, that sounds right since graduation is right around the corner again.”

Kozume and Tsukishima snort at the nickname, resulting in Akaashi narrowing his eyes. He knows plenty well that they were never any better than he was when it came to being apathetic during their shared time together.

Kuroo swaps his beer handle into his other hand so he can rest his chin in his palm while facing Akaashi. His signature Cheshire cat grin is plastered across his face as he awaits a reply.

Akaashi sighs, taking a sip of his own beer before setting the glass down and dropping his hands into his lap. His fingers immediately start to fidget together under the table. Kuroo notices out of his peripheral, but does not avert his gaze from Akaashi’s face, though his smile wavers the slightest bit - not that Akaashi notices because he’s staring down at the table, lips drawn and brows creased.

“Ah, well,” Akaashi starts, “not long after my own graduation, my phone kind of fried. None of my contacts backed up to the cloud, so I had to start from scratch. Since I was never really all that big on social media, it was hard to get back into touch with everyone. Thankfully, Bokuto-san being Bokuto-san got antsy when I hadn’t been replying to his messages or calls and just sort of,” Akaashi raises an arm to gesture in the air before dropping it back onto the table, “showed up one day. He caught me just before I left home for my own apartment and I explained the situation to him. He immediately threw me into a group message with all the guys from Fukurodani so I could at least save their contacts again, but that was about as far as I got.” He pauses to take a sip of his beer, hand sliding back under the table to wring his fingers.

“I lost all my photos as well. All my memories from high school just… poof. There wasn’t much Bokuto-san could do to help with that though,” Akaashi sighs sadly, his heart having sunk. “I haven’t gone out of the way much to make any new ones since university has been my priority for the past three years.”

When he finishes, everyone is silent. Akaashi looks up from the invisible hole he had mentally bore into the table and notices everyone is frowning. Yachi looks like she may very well start crying at the drop of a hat.

Panic washes over Akaashi as he raises his hands to wave away the atmosphere he had successfully soured. “Ah, don’t worry about it though, everything’s fine. I’ve only got the one year of university left once this year ends, and then hopefully I can create new memories.”

No one budges.

_Ah, they don’t believe me_.

Before he can drop his hands again, Kuroo’s hand reaches out in front of his face. Akaashi’s gaze follows the length of his arm until he locks his gaze with Kuroo’s, one brow raised in question.

“Give me your phone,” Kuroo states, wiggling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ motion.

Unmoving, Akaashi goes to open his mouth, but before he can question Kuroo’s intentions, the other continues.

“Give me your phone,” Kuroo repeats, “and we can start making you new memories now.”

A wave of hesitation washes over Akaashi. He mulls the suggestion over for a minute before exhaling through his nose and reaching into his pocket to grab his phone. He unlocks it and presses it into Kuroo’s open palm.

Kuroo grins before setting his glass down and turning in his seat to stretch his arm out after opening the front camera.

Akaashi takes in his own image from the small frame. His face looks so…

_Sad_.

He shakes the look as best he can, allowing a faux smile to rest on his lips as everyone in the booth squeezes together to fit in frame. Kuroo has his back pressed almost directly to Akaashi’s chest, his head resting just above his shoulder. The tips of his ever-present bedhead tickle at Akaashi’s nose causing it to wrinkle. From behind, he watches Kozume’s arm reach out to try and pat it down to no avail. That alone draws a quiet laugh from Akaashi.

“It’s alright Kozume, thank you,” he says before tilting his head to the side to try and evade the stray hairs. Once situated, he notices Kuroo’s eyes flicker between everyone in frame to make sure everyone’s paying attention before counting down.

Kuroo, Yachi, and Yamaguchi smile wide while throwing up peace signs. Tsukishima, Akaashi, and Kozume quirk up the corners of their lips just enough so that their smiles register in the camera as smiles and not like they’re being forced into the situation against their wills (though Akaashi thinks Tsukishima and Kozume may very well feel that way).

Once Kuroo snaps a few different pictures, he pulls his arm back down and opens the gallery to determine the best one.

Before Akaashi can request his phone back, Kuroo is already on a different screen. From what Akaashi can tell, he’s sending the picture in a message to some unknown number. A second later, Kuroo’s thigh that’s pressed against Akaashi’s vibrates and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his own phone. With a grin, he hands Akaashi his phone back before unlocking his own.

“Feel free to save my number,” Kuroo hums before opening his messages and saving the photo he sent himself.

Akaashi rolls his eyes and instead locks his phone and sets it back on the table, feeling Kuroo’s eyes on him the entire time.

“You wound me, Akaashi,” he says, feigning hurt in his voice as he raises a hand pretending to wipe tears from his eyes.

Akaashi notices the three sitting across from him roll their eyes at the gesture in return and can’t help but chuckle. Then, from his peripheral, he notices Kozume pulling his mask back over the lower half of his face and turning his attention to his phone. From what Akaashi can tell, Kozume appears to be playing some sort of game and Akaashi can’t help but smile at the sight.

_Some things never change, I guess_.

Curious, Akaashi turns his full attention to Kozume now and asks, “By the way Kozume, what’s with all this?” He gestures to Kozume’s disguise.

From behind, he can hear Kuroo gasp in shock and slam a hand on the table.

Akaashi’s eyes close as he composes himself before turning back to Kuroo. “Yes, Kuroo-san?”

“You mean to tell me you don’t know of rising star celebrity gamer extraordinaire _Kodzuken_?” The back of Kuroo’s hand flies up to his forehead in a display of horror as he leans backwards out of the booth in disbelief.

Akaashi raises a brow before looking between him and Kozume.

Taking charge, Yamaguchi pipes up before Kuroo can dramatically intervene again. “Kozume-san is a pretty famous streamer now, Akaashi-san. You didn’t know?”

As if Akaashi had thought he’d already experienced it all tonight, he turns to Kozume, jaw hanging slightly and says, “No, I had no idea.”

Kozume shrugs and bounces his phone between his index fingers as he watches the loading screen. “Yeah, I guess you could put it like that,” he mutters, glancing up at Akaashi before back down at his phone. “I’ve started gaining a pretty big following lately. I’m wearing this to make sure no one recognizes me so I can come and hang out with everyone without getting mobbed.”

Taken aback, Akaashi’s eyes flick between everyone at the table before landing on Kuroo who had composed himself at his side, sipping his beer. Kuroo laughs and nudges Akaashi’s shoulder with his own.

“That’s that lack of social media presence for you,” he teases, looking past Akaashi to smirk at Kozume. “Kenma over here has gotten so big he’s able to sponsor our favourite little shortie as he’s running circles around us across the world. Isn’t that right, _Kodzuken_?”

Kozume sighs and locks his phone, stuffing it back in his pocket and lowering his mask enough to take a sip from his beer. “I may or may not have decided to sponsor Shoyo as he plays beach volleyball in Brazil. He needed the help, and I was willing to offer it. He’s my friend after all.”

Kuroo sniffles, wiping more invisible tears from the corner of his eye. “And yet he can’t even buy me dinner once in a while… After all I’ve done for you, too.”

Kozume tries reaching past Akaashi to grab at Kuroo, eyes glaring daggers through his skull, but Kuroo hops up from the booth with a grin. The weight up Kozume pressing against him trying to get to Kuroo, and the sudden lack of Kuroo there to stabilize him, causes Akaashi to fall over onto the seat with Kozume face planting into his shoulder. Kuroo’s hyena laugh echoes out into the bar at the sight as he grabs the empty glasses from the table and goes to get refills.

Akaashi and Kozume straighten back, Kozume apologizing to Akaashi for knocking him over and Akaashi telling him not to worry about it.

“I must say, I am a little surprised by all this Kozume,” Akaashi hums, adjusting in his seat to make room for Kuroo once more as he approaches the booth with more beers. “You never seemed like the type of person that would willingly put yourself out there like that. For the world to see, I mean.”

Another shrug from Kozume as he claims his beer from Kuroo’s hand.

_I guess things that appear to be the same have in fact changed as well._

“How is Hinata doing?” Akaashi asks the table in general, figuring everyone there would know better than he since they were all either friends or were by his side for years during school.

“He seems to be doing well!” Yachi smiles, taking a drink, face clouding over shortly with concern after as she continues. “Though sometimes I do worry a lot. I’m sure he’s fine! He always tells us he’s fine! But still…”

Yamaguchi whispers to her that Hinata’s alright, they heard from him earlier that day and he was in perfect health. Yachi nods along and sighs, closing her eyes momentarily to compose herself. Akaashi can’t help but smile as he watches them, finding the exchange to be rather endearing.

“He’ll be back next year,” Tsukishima says in a dull tone. “He left earlier this- _last_ year,” he corrects himself, remembering that they’re currently at the start of a new year. “He left for two years thanks to the help of the coach from Shiratorizawa. Something about how he needs to learn to get better at - to _do_ \- everything.” He shakes his head and takes a swig of his drink. Though he tries to mask it behind his usual snark, Akaashi can pick up on the slightest bit of tenderness in his voice.

_It’s nice to know Hinata still has all of them in his corner. I’m sure having them makes the change a little easier._

“What about Bokuto-san?”

Akaashi turns his gaze from Tsukishima to Yamaguchi who’s looking at him with a smile.

“Yeah, how is that dumb owl?” Kuroo asks. “He doesn’t go out of his way to annoy me as much as he used to.”

“Don’t pretend to cry again, whatever you do,” Kozume grumbles from beside Akaashi, peeking over his shoulder to stare at Kuroo.

Akaashi laughs.

“He makes sure to FaceTime me almost every day, like clock-work. I haven’t been able to see him much in person due to his schedule and training, my schedule and whatnot, but he always makes sure to check in to some degree.”

As if on cue, Akaashi’s phone begins to vibrate vigorously on the table. Everyone’s eyes dart toward it and read Bokuto’s name across the top of the screen.

“It’s like he has a sense for when people are talking about him, I swear,” Akaashi mutters as he picks up the phone and positions it to answer the video call.

“HEY, HEY, HEY AKAASHI!” Bokuto’s exuberant voice rings out into the bar, earning the turn of heads from a few of the other people sitting around them.

Akaashi attempts to tell him to soften his voice, but Bokuto’s already rambling on about something that happened at practice earlier that day.

_Tsum-tsum something-something Omi something-fighting-somewhere._

It was always along those lines, yet Akaashi never got tired of hearing about Bokuto’s daily team shenanigans. However, there was an excitement bubbling inside him that he wanted to share with Bokuto instead.

“Bokuto-sa-”

“Oh! And Inu-san tried-”

“Boku-”

“-but they just kept-”

Akaashi closes his eyes and inhales as he notices Tsukishima and Yamaguchi snickering at Bokuto’s lack of awareness.

“BOKUTO-SAN,” he says louder than his usual voice with enough force to earn him five pairs of raised eyebrows and a tight lip from Bokuto on screen.

“Yeah, what’s up Akaashi?”

Finally finding his moment to interject, Akaashi sayd, “I have a surprise to share with you.”

Kuroo’s eyes twinkle as he grins, watching Akaashi more-so than Bokuto on the screen.

“Oh?” Bokuto hoots, practically vibrating with anticipation now. “What is it?”

Turning his phone slightly in the direction between him and Kuroo, he watches as Bokuto raises a questioning brow. Bokuto’s eyes travel across the screen, taking note of the arm that reaches into frame and around Akaashi’s shoulders. Kuroo had ducked out of the way before Akaashi turned his camera, and before Bokuto can ask what’s going on, he scoots back into frame, taking up the other half of Bokuto’s screen.

Bokuto lets out a gleeful yelp, eyes wide with excitement.

“What’s up you horned owl bastard?” Kuroo laughs as he presses his face closer to Akaashi’s to fit into the frame, dislodging Akaashi’s glasses slightly in the process. Akaashi adjusts them with a huff but can’t help smiling at Bokuto’s enthusiastic reaction.

“BRO! What’re you guys up to?!” Bokuto yells, eyes flicking upwards as he mouths an apology to someone off screen before directing his attention back to two of his favourite people.

“Well, Kenma and I decided to get drinks with old four-eyes - ” that earns a glare from Tsukishima who gets up to go order another kahlua with milk “ - and some of his friends,” Kuroo takes Akaashi’s phone and turns the camera to Tsukishima as he’s walking away and then to Yamaguchi and Yachi who wave. Akaashi can hear Bokuto excitedly proclaim “Yacchan!” through the phone and laughs quietly as Kuroo turns the camera back to the two of them. “We walked into the building and I saw your boy here sitting at the bar by himself. Or at least I thought it was him. Since, y’know, I haven’t seen him in almost four years now,” Kuroo makes a point to stare into Akaashi’s soul through the small window displayed in the top corner of his screen showing the two of them. Akaashi grimaces and waves it off while Bokuto laughs.

“So,” Kuroo continues, “I took a chance and walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder. He turned around looking like he was going to bite my head off, or fight me, or _something_ , but sure enough it was him!”

Bokuto’s just about rolling now. “You’ve got the ‘Akaashi sense,’ too!”

“You’re goddamn right!” Kuroo all but howls with laughter as he nudges his shoulder against Akaashi’s.

Akaashi rolls his eyes and speaks up. “You two keep at it all you want, but let me up so I can go to the restroom.”

Kuroo, phone still in hand, shuffles out of the booth so Akaashi can stand. As Akaashi walks away, he peers over his shoulder and watches as Kuroo smashes himself right up against Kozume so Bokuto can see the both of them as well and greet Kozume, too.

With a smile, Akaashi shakes his head and steps into the restroom, hoping that leaving Kuroo in charge of his phone wasn’t a mistake.

While Akaashi is away, Kuroo reclaims his position at the outermost part of the bench, not risking getting smacked by Kozume anymore than he already had. His arm is folded on the table, chin resting atop it as he grins into the camera. Bokuto’s continuing the story he had begun prior to Akaashi’s interruption when Kuroo notices a dropdown notification slide into view at the top of Akaashi’s phone screen.

_You’ve got a new match!_

Kuroo’s brows furrow momentarily as he eyes it wearily, but chooses to ignore it for the time being as to not draw Bokuto’s attention to his distraction. He nods every so often while Bokuto speaks, throwing out a comment to show he’s paying attention, until he feels a tap on his shoulder. Tearing his eyes from the screen, he notices Akaashi standing beside the table waiting to be let back in. Instead of getting up, Kuroo scooches himself further into the seat, now pressed up against Kozume so that Akaashi can sit. He talks to Bokuto for a few more minutes, well, more listening to what Bokuto has to say than talking himself, before handing the phone back to Akaashi. 

Akaashi gives Bokuto his attention for a few minutes longer before Bokuto announces that he needs to get to bed in order to wake up early enough for his morning run. With a nod, Akaashi allows Bokuto to wish everyone at the table a good night before ending the call with a smile.

Kuroo notices the tender look Akaashi carries on his face before turning to grab his glass and emptying the remainder of his beer into his mouth.

The group remains at the booth for half an hour longer before Tsukishima declares he needs to get back to the inn he’s staying at with his team so he can get some semblance of sleep before returning home to Sendai in the morning. Yachi agrees that it is getting late, and confirms that Yamaguchi will be staying over at her apartment for the night so that he can head back home in the morning as well. Yamaguchi verifies with a laugh, making a joke about becoming well acquainted with her spare futon.

The trio then get up from their side of the booth and bow their heads to their still seniors in goodbye. Yamaguchi promises the three of them will pay for their next outing as he thanks Kuroo for the drinks, and with that they make sure they have their belongings in order before leaving the bar with a wave.

As the remaining three watch, Akaashi moves to sit on the now spare bench across from Kuroo and Kozume, allowing them all ample room to stretch their legs. Kuroo shakes his head with a laugh before sighing. “That poor kid has it bad for Yacchan and I think she’s too oblivious to notice.”

“She’s not the only one,” Kozume mutters as his fingers tap skillfully at the screen of his phone, no doubt playing another round of whatever game it is he has open, Akaashi assumes.

Akaashi doesn’t think much of Kozume’s comment until he notices a blush creeping across Kuroo’s face. He gives him a questioning look before Kuroo shoots up from his seat, saying he’s going to go pay for his tab and then shuffles away. Turning to Kozume, the other merely shakes his head signaling not to bother asking. Akaashi purses his lips before sighing and moving to stand.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to see you again Kozume. Hopefully not as much time passes before I get to again. And congratulations on building your own brand, someone like yourself is more than deserving of success,” Akaashi says as he slips his coat over his shoulders and tucks his scarf around his neck.

Kozume murmurs in agreement and looks up towards Akaashi with a kind smile. Before Akaashi can escape, Kozume holds his phone out towards him. Akaashi notices that the screen is displaying an empty contact page and Kozume pointedly stares at him until Akaashi takes the hint and accepts his phone in order to input his information. “I suppose that _would_ help with that,” Akaashi says with a chuckle before returning it to Kozume.

Kozume’s gaze then turns to Kuroo who had wandered back over to their booth, cheeks now clear of any hint of a blush. He snickers before standing as well, pocketing his phone. The three exit the bar, bid one last farewell outside the door, and go in their respective directions.

When they’re far enough away, Kozume looks at Kuroo with narrow eyes and a delighted smirk on his lips. Kuroo notices from the corner of his eyes, glances, and then continues staring straight ahead.

“What?” Kuroo asks, the back of his neck beginning to burn from embarrassment rather than the breeze of chilly air licking up his skin.

“You’ve still got it hard for Akaashi, don’t you?” Kozume ponders aloud, hands stuffed in his pockets and voice muffled from behind his mask. He hadn’t bothered to adorn his sunglasses as it’s dark enough out now that he doubts he’ll need to bother with having anyone try to approach him to fawn over him.

The teasing nature in Kozume’s voice gets under Kuroo’s skin and he grumbles out an “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re the one that tried teasing poor Yamaguchi behind his back, I think it’s only fair,” Kozume continues, nodding in agreement with his own statement. “Afterall, you had this look on your face like time had stopped when we walked into the bar and you saw him sitting there.”

“Did not!”

“Did, too. You couldn’t see your own face so how would you know otherwise, huh?” Kozume retorts, sidestepping to avoid being trapped in a headlock by Kuroo. 

As Kuroo’s swinging arm drops back down to his side, he raises both of them and crosses them over his chest. “When we were talking with Bokuto, he got a notification from a dating app saying he had a new match. He must be looking to date.”

Kozume picks up on the slight hurt riddling Kuroo’s voice and sighs. “Well, he is single. And attractive. And you never once expressed aloud to anyone other than me that you even liked him. He looked really confused when you ran away from the booth after I made the comment about Yamaguchi not being the only one one-sidedly pining after someone.”

“Yeah, and that was totally uncalled for,” Kuroo whines and lets his arms fall back to his sides so he can shove his hands in his pockets. The gears in his head start turning and Kozume gives him a once over before shaking his head.

“You’re not thinking of anything stupid, are you?” Kozume asks, stepping back so he’s beside Kuroo and bumps shoulders with him. “If you wanna try talking to him first, you know, like a normal person would… why not just text him? I noticed how you made sure to get his number, not only without his permission, but rather indiscreetly at that.”

Kuroo glares at him from the corner of his eye and huffs, his breath coming out in a gentle cloudy puff due to the cold before his eyes that he steps through and watches it dissipate. “I’m not thinking about anything stupid… Just about reactivating my old dating profile. Just to see what’s out there, y’know. See what other fish are in the sea, what have you,” Kuroo says with a confident nod. He peers over at Kozume whose face is scrunched up in the same level of disgust as the ones he used to make at Lev whenever he’d flub a spike and get all down on himself.

“Just don’t be too overly stupid. I know how you can be. And don’t come crying to me when your idiocy eventually gets the better of you,” Kozume chides, and they continue the rest of their journey in relative silence. Eventually, they part ways and Kuroo heads in the direction of his apartment while Kozume in the direction of his own home.

Once Kuroo enters, slips off his shoes, and pads across his apartment to his bed, he collapses into it and exhales loudly into his pillow. He lies like that for a few minutes before reaching for his phone that he haphazardly dropped onto his nightstand. Rolling onto his back, Kuroo brings his phone towards his face so he can see the screen. He swipes to the second page of installed applications and clicks the icon for the dating app he knew Akaashi to be using, thankfully one he had prior experience using as well. Against his better judgement, and shaking his head clear of the visual of Kozume glaring daggers through him, he enters the app’s settings and chooses to turn his profile visible again.

It had been months since Kuroo had last opened the app himself, having become too focused on school work during his final year of university to bother trying to date. That, however, didn’t stop the way his heart nearly pounded out of his chest as the app refreshed back to the home screen and loaded a slew of profiles for him to swipe through. He had no interest in the new profiles that loaded every time he swiped left.

Minutes passed as he quickly thumbed through the app, frown evident on his face the longer it took to find what - _who_ \- he was looking for. Then, eventually, it hit him. Almost like a brick to the face. He had almost swiped left once more, thumb moving on reflex at this point, but stopped just fast enough before the screen could swap.

Akaashi’s profile sprung back to the center of Kuroo’s screen, and he inhaled sharply. Without a second though, he swiped right. There was no instant ‘It’s a match!’ popup, but the speed at which Kuroo’s thumb moved still caused him to drop his phone onto his chest in shock.

_Damn it_ , he thought, squeezing his eyes shut and digging the palms of his hands against them. _I didn’t even stop to look through his profile. There’s no guarantee he’ll ever find mine or even swipe to match. Hell, there’s no guarantee he even uses the app anymore. Maybe it just sits there and he forgot to turn the notifications off or forgot to delete it. What a wasted opportunity._

_… I should have just texted him._

He sighs and heaves himself into a sitting position, phone flinging down onto his bed as he shifts to stand up. Deciding now would be the perfect time to grab a late night snack and some water to counter all the beer he had earlier, he leaves his phone behind and saunters into his kitchen.

***

Freshly showered, Akaashi flops onto his bed after grabbing himself a glass of water. Damp curls stick to his forehead as he stares up at his ceiling, thinking back to the night he shared with some old friends. He grabs his phone and instantly opens his photo gallery, wanting to once more admire the picture Kuroo had taken of the lot of them. He can’t help but smile as he takes in everyone’s expressions. To his delight, he’s happy to have run into everyone when he did. It momentarily helps him forget the night he had been having prior. 

As his mind wanders to before Kuroo had shown up and forcibly dragged Akaashi from his self-deprecating thoughts, he returns to his phone’s home screen and thumbs to the next page where the dating app is sitting. He notices a red bubble in the upper right-hand corner of the app, indicating that he has a new notification. Upon opening it, he realizes that one of the profiles he had swiped right on earlier has matched with him, though they didn’t bother to initiate any sort of conversation.

Not having it in him to worry about whether or not he should step up and be the one to break the ice first (as he usually forces himself to do more often than not), he instead unmatches with the individual and stares at the blank match screen once the page reloads.

He then swipes back to the main page and stares at the first profile. The person smiling back at him is pretty, but Akaashi’s heart doesn’t sing the way he always hoped it would when his eyes land on “the one.” He swipes left, watching the profile disappear as it’s replaced with the next one in line. Lacking any sort of real motivation to try and communicate with anyone at the present moment, Akaashi devises a system where he peruses a person’s profile, swipes left, and repeats. It’s almost like people watching, but from the comfort of his bed. And without having to worry about anyone catching him staring.

This continues on for a while, Akaashi’s mind finally void of any real thought until he swipes one profile away and is met with Kuroo’s beaming face plastered on his phone screen. His thumb hovers for a moment, hesitant. 

_What the hell is he doing here?_ he wonders before shaking his head. Before Akaashi can stalk through Kuroo’s profile to determine what sort of person Kuroo presents himself as, his phone slips from his fingers and drops onto his chest.

“Damn it,” he mutters before picking it back up with clumsy fingers. In the process, his thumb swipes across the screen and instead of Kuroo’s profile meeting his gaze once more, he’s met with an ‘It’s a match!’ screen. Heart racing now, Akaashi locks his phone and tosses it to the foot of his bed.

***

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189618050@N08/50178117203/in/dateposted-public/)

[Image transcription: Akaashi’s phone screen displaying that he and Kuroo had matched in the dating app; "It's a Match! You and Tetsurō have liked each other."]

_Shit, I should have unmatched with him first before he could see._

_Wait._

_WAIT._

Akaashi scrambles forward and dives on his phone, unlocks it, and stares at the screen.

_How did I match with Kuroo-san? What does this mean? Is this a joke? Is this serious? What are his intentions?_

Akaashi’s mind keeps wandering. That is, until, a ping from his phone signaling a new notification distracts him from his panic just enough to open the chat window and read the message.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/189618050@N08/50178108758/in/dateposted-public/)

[Image transcription: A message from Kuroo to Akaashi that reads “You SET me up with this ACE idea, and I would really DIG it if you went on a date with me (｡ >艸<) ]

***

The ping notification sound from his phone drags Kuroo from the light nap he had found himself falling into. When he blinks his eyes open and picks up his phone, his heart stops when he sees the notification illuminating his home screen. It’s the same one he watched drop down from Akaashi’s notification bar earlier that night.

_You’ve got a new match!_

…

“You’re fucking kidding,” Kuroo mumbles as he unlocks his phone and immediately opens the app, skin crawling with a blooming warmth as the page loads and he sees Akaashi’s profile sitting at the top of the screen.

Riding his current high, Kuroo composes a quick message and presses send before his mind can catch up to his fingers.

**_Tetsurō_ **: You SET me up with this ACE idea, and I would really DIG it if you went on a date with me (｡ >艸<)

Upon pressing send, he jumps up from bed and starts pacing, gnawing on his lower lip as his eyes are trained on the glowing screen of his phone lying amongst his sheets. From where he stands, he can see a bubble pop up just below his, indicating that Akaashi was typing a response. He inhales deeply and sits on the edge of his bed, picking his phone up and waiting to see what the other has to say.

The bubble indicating Akaashi’s typing disappears, and a few seconds later is replaced by a larger, gray bubble with the words:

**_Keiji_ **: Kuroo-san, what are you doing?

Kuroo lets out a breathy laugh at that and runs a hand through his hair, composing himself before typing.

**_Tetsurō_ **: Sending you a pickup line, isn’t it obvious?

**_Keiji_ **: ( ¬_¬ )

**_Tetsurō_ **: Okay, okay. You seemed rather down earlier when you were talking about how you don’t really hang out with anybody anymore, so I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out sometime!! Y’know, with me!

**_Keiji_ **: I gathered that much, but why on here? You not-so-secretly got my contact information earlier, right?

_Shit_ . _Caught red-handed. Should’ve just listened to Kenma._

**_Tetsurō_ **: Oh! When you were in the bathroom earlier, you got a match notification while I was talking to Bokuto. And you know how I am, always gotta be as extra as humanly possible. That’s what Kenma says at least ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**_Keiji_ **: ( ¬_¬ )

Before Kuroo can comment on Akaashi’s lack of response, he sees the typing bubble pop back up, so he sits and waits.

**_Keiji_ **: Shouldn’t you be preparing for classes to start back up this week? And what about finals? It’s your last year, so shouldn’t you be focusing on graduating instead of worrying about how I’m spending my time?

**_Keiji_ **: … or not spending my time?

Kuroo frowns at that. Earlier on when he noticed Akaashi wringing his fingers at the bar, he could tell then that something was eating away at him. He doesn’t like how Akaashi seems to be craving attention while simultaneously pushing it away when he starts to receive it.

**_Tetsurō_ **: I’ve got something lined up for after I graduate, so I’m not all that worried. I’m good when it comes to studying, always make sure to set aside enough time to verify I retain everything I’m learning. You don’t have to worry about me. Besides! Like we established earlier, it’s been nearly four years now since I last saw you! I’d like to catch up again!

He holds his breath when he sees Akaashi begin to type. His eyes are transfixed as he watches each dot inside the bubble illuminate. _1… 2… 3… 1… 2… 3…_ He bites the inside of his cheek when a message pops up.

**_Keiji_ **: Oh, interesting. I guess you never really told me all about what you’ve been up to earlier with everyone else. Perhaps you can tell me about it over coffee sometime.

Kuroo’s lips curve upwards into an uncharacteristically giddy smile, one you’d much rather find plastered on Bokuto’s face than his own. As he’s about to reply, another incoming message pops up.

**_Keiji_ **: But next time, Kuroo-san… Please just text me instead. There’s no need to be “as extra as humanly possible."

With a chuckle, Kuroo swaps from the dating app to his messaging app and quickly types up a reply in the thread where the photo from Akaashi’s phone sits. He smiles at it before pressing send.

_You got it!_

A ping.

_It’s late now, so until tomorrow… Goodnight, Kuroo-san._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! Starting a new fic for the first time in YEARS the weekend before I start classes again was probably... not the wisest idea. However, the KurooAkaa agenda has been eating away at me and I come to you all to present my humble offering. I love what I've noted down so far and outlined how this fic is gonna go, and I really hope I find the time to finish it, unlike some things I attempted in the past.
> 
> I have a ton of Haikyuu feelings, and this is my attempt at word vomiting them up.
> 
> Feel free to leave a review or comment, and also feel free to reach out to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt/)! I'm definitely very active over there!


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday morning welcomes Akaashi with a dull throbbing at the forefront of his head. The second he opens his eyes to greet the day, he immediately regrets it. He borderline regrets being born. Rolling over with a groan, he presses his face firmly into his pillow, silently cursing himself for drinking as much as he had. 

During the last half hour before everyone parted ways, Kuroo had insisted on doing shots together as a sort of belated new years celebration. So they did. And then the passage of everyone’s birthdays since the last time they met, all of whom had birthdays in the latter half of the year, Akaashi’s having been the latest. According to Kuroo’s standards, that meant Akaashi had to do double. So they did again.

Prior to going to bed, Akaashi had no inkling of a headache coming on. Now that he lies there awaiting the sweet release of death that doesn’t come, he shifts to cursing Kuroo instead of himself.

_I had only been in his presence for a couple of hours, and yet he managed to be just as much of a pain-in-the-ass as I remember._

Turning his head just enough to scope out his phone on his nightstand, he extends an arm from his cocoon of blankets and draws it into the warmth he’s encased in. Through bleary eyes he unlocks it and opens the message app where it’s indicated he has a new notification.

Apparently, shortly after Akaashi had bid Kuroo goodnight and silenced his phone to fall asleep, Kuroo had left him one last message before presumably heading to bed himself.

Once Akaashi blinks enough sleep from his eyes, he squints to read what the other had to say. 

**Kuroo** : Goodnight, sleeping beauty! Rest well! (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)

…

_Well, that was unexpected…_

Trying not to think too hard about Kuroo’s word choice first thing in the morning with an ever growing headache, Akaashi decides to express his frustrations to Kuroo by composing a follow up.

**Akaashi** : I feel like utter garbage. This is entirely your fault.

After turning the sound back on, he sets his phone down on his pillow and closes his eyes once more, trying to will himself back to sleep. He manages, somewhat, though it’s restless. He lingers between reality and the dream world for what feels like only a handful of minutes, but is fully pulled back to the realm of the living when his phone pings next to his ear, successfully startling him awake. Grumbling and grabbing his phone, he checks the time and realizes over an hour had passed of him trying and failing to grasp at unconsciousness.

Opening the message app, Akaashi grimaces as he tries to focus his blurry gaze enough to read Kuroo’s text.

**Kuroo** : You know what will help with that? Coffee!

Akaashi snorts and shakes his head, composing a quick message before gracelessly pushing himself from bed, shivering as his body collides with a wall of chilly January air that circles in his bedroom.

**Akaashi** : I don’t believe that’s how that works, Kuroo-san… but perhaps some fresh air will, instead.

Stretching the remaining tiredness from his body, Akaashi shuffles his feet past his bedroom door, opting for some sort of pain reliever, water, and a shower.

***

Kuroo lies in bed, flicking through his Instagram feed when Akaashi’s message drops from the top of his screen. He reads it and finds his heart attempting to leap into his throat.

 _Is that an invitation?_ He ponders, unsure of Akaashi’s current stance.

“Come on, give me a little more to work with here.”

He shoots Akaashi a reply -

**Kuroo** : How about noon at Cafe 819? I don’t know how far that is from where you live, but hopefully that gives you enough time and distance to get some of that “fresh air.”

\- and then he waits.

He waits for about fifteen minutes, swapping back and forth between some form of social media and the message app, waiting for the bubble indicating Akaashi’s typing to pop up. When it doesn’t after five more minutes, he figures Akaashi took it upon himself to get his fresh air.

Kuroo sighs and rolls out of bed, figuring it’s at least about time he got something in order for breakfast.

However, just as he’s making his way into his kitchen, his phone vibrates in his hand, earning it his attention.

On the lock screen, he reads Akaashi’s name and feels his heart jump once more in an attempt to lodge itself in his throat.

**Akaashi** : That works for me.

And then a follow up,

**Akaashi** : And apologies, I was in the shower. Figured it might help a little as well.

Kuroo hurriedly thumbs a reply.

**Kuroo** : Hey, no worries! Did it help any? Don’t want you trying to blame me anymore for feeling like garbage. You’re the one that took all the shots, not like I was actually forcing your hand. (｡ˇ艸ˇ)

A reply comes a few minutes later as Kuroo’s waiting for his toast to pop.

**Akaashi** : I do feel a little better, thankfully, but don’t make me already regret my decision. I’ll see you at noon, Kuroo-san.

With a whoop of delight, Kuroo plops himself down at the table and nibbles at his toast, mentally going through his closet to figure out what to wear.

***

Akaashi arrives a few minutes before noon and glances around to check every corner of the cafe. When he doesn’t see Kuroo, he approaches the counter and orders himself a coffee and picks up a small box of pocky from in front of the register to snack on as well. Once his coffee is made, he picks out an empty table by a side window, allowing enough space between himself and the few people scattered about the other tables.

As he waits, Akaashi scrolls through the news on his phone. He’s halfway through an article related to the opening of a new restaurant not too far from his apartment when he hears the jingle of a bell indicating that someone was coming through the main entrance. His gaze drifts upwards and he freezes in place, eyes falling on Kuroo who’s looking around until he spots Akaashi and lifts a hand in a brief wave.

Kuroo’s wearing a pair of distressed black jeans and a white v-neck shirt. A black and red plaid flannel shirt is left unbuttoned to top it off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to display his prominent forearm muscles, still toned from years of playing volleyball. It’s then that Akaashi realizes that, aside from just now and the night prior, he’s never really seen Kuroo in anything other than his old volleyball uniform or various articles of sportswear.

He realizes that Kuroo looks _good_.

Glancing down at his own attire - a dark gray cardigan hanging open over a black t-shirt, and a pair of light wash, cuffed jeans - he begins to wonder how he looks to Kuroo, knowing full well that if he had never seen Kuroo in casual clothing, the same goes for him.

He watches as Kuroo walks up to the counter and orders himself a drink before joining him at the table. Kuroo drapes his jacket over the back of a chair, having taken it off at the door, before sitting down with a groan and flashing Akaashi a cheeky smile.

“I’m starting to understand how you felt waking up this morning,” he laughs while lifting his coffee to take a sip. “I take full responsibility at this point. Afraid if I don’t, this headache I started getting won’t ever go away.”

The corner of Akaashi’s lip turns up as he sips his own coffee. “Sorry for not ordering a coffee for you, I wasn’t sure how you take yours,” he says while setting his cup down, long fingers lacing around it in a hold.

Kuroo’s brows furrow only momentarily as he waves Akaashi’s comment aside. “Don’t worry about it. Just black though, nothing fancy.”

Akaashi nods and hums. “I’ll know for next time then,” he says without thinking, and even then doesn’t really register what he said.

Kuroo, however, _immediately_ perks up at the ‘next time,’ but doesn’t point it out, not wanting to have Akaashi backtrack and change his mind. Instead, he opts to hide his present smile behind his cup.

“And how do you take yours?” he asks, eyeing Akaashi from over the brim.

Akaashi swirls his cup's contents and chuckles. “Black as well. Sometimes if I want an extra boost I’ll get a shot of espresso, but I figured it wouldn’t help all that much right now with the dull throb in my head.”

“Ah, so not feeling all that better yet, huh?” Kuroo nods more to himself while turning to peer out the window. It’s slightly overcast, so the sun isn’t angrily glaring down at them, causing them to squint and further strain what little mental fortitude they have left.

“I learned that public transportation isn’t necessarily the best cure for a hangover,” Akaashi starts, pausing to sip from his coffee and join Kuroo in gazing out the window. A mother and her child are walking past, hand-in-hand, laughing about something or other. “Thankfully there weren’t all that many other passengers, and walking the remainder of the way without being jostled around like a grain of rice in a sac helped.”

Kuroo nods, eyeing Akaashi in his peripheral. He hesitates for a moment, fingers gripping at his cup. He’s been on a roll so far, he thinks, so he figures it's better to ride his high and confidence and see if his lucky streak continues.

“Maybe we could go for a walk after this then, if you’d like… Since that helped more. I’m sure the fluorescent lights they’ve got in this place aren’t helping any. I know they’re making my eyes hurt,” he proposes, turning his gaze back fully to Akaashi now, waiting on his reply.

Akaashi’s gaze holds steady out the window for a brief moment longer before it meets Kuroo’s and he nods. “That would be nice. I’m almost done with my coffee, so whenever you’re done with yours-”

Before Akaashi can finish, Kuroo lifts his cup and downs the rest. It’s warm, not hot thankfully, but just enough so that it’s still uncomfortable as it slides back down his throat and settles into his stomach. When he lowers his cup and finds Akaashi’s gaze once more, he belts out a laugh at how wide Akaashi’s eyes are. “You were saying?”

After composing himself, Akaashi just shakes his head and finishes off his own coffee with a sigh. “What was it we discussed last night about you not needing to be as ‘extra as humanly possible?’”

Kuroo shrugs and teases with a smirk, “Don’t want you sitting here in pain is all.”

“The only reason I’m in pain is because you’re still the same old pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san as I remembered.”

That earns another laugh from Kuroo as he pushes his chair back to stand, grabbing his coat on his way up. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, moving to a nearby trash bin to toss his empty cup. “C’mon, let's get going before you can, what was it? ‘Regret your decision’ again?”

Akaashi huffs, but follows suit. He tosses his cup and shrugs his jacket over his shoulders, zipping it up to his chin. Kuroo is already at the door, holding it open for Akaashi to step out. Akaashi nods with a quiet ‘thank you,’ before they head off in a random direction, following wherever it is their feet lead them.

After a few minutes of random left and right turns, they find themselves at the entrance to a park. Exchanging a glance, they decide to continue through it.

“Wanna sit for a minute?” Kuroo asks, nodding towards a bench beside a frozen pond. Akaashi makes his way over without a word, sitting down and digging his hands into his pockets to retrieve a pair of gloves. He slips them on and watches as Kuroo plops down beside him.

Despite the overcast and natural January weather, it’s slightly warmer than it had been the night prior. At least warm enough where they can sit comfortable without shivering.

They sit in silence for a minute, watching some sort of unidentifiable bird hop across the pond’s ice. Kuroo snorts as it’s teeny-tiny little bird feet slide out from beneath it and it flies off in a fright.

Figuring it best to break the silence, Akaashi absentmindedly wrings his gloved fingers together and opens his mouth.

“So,” he starts, eyes trained on the tips of frozen grass that crunch under the toes of his shoe. “You said you had something lined up for after graduation, correct?”

Kuroo, surprised by the sudden question, shifts forward a little where he sits and glances at Akaashi before shuffling back against the bench.

“Ah, yeah. Not sure how much you know, if anything,” he hums and laces his fingers behind his head, allowing it to fall back so it’s facing upwards, eyes closed as he speaks. “I’m going to school for sports management. After an interview I had, the JVA board reached out to me about a paid internship starting soon after graduation. They want me to intern for a year before bringing me on full-time, just to make sure I’ll be a good fit for where they want to place me. They liked what I had to say well enough, so I’m not too worried about it not working out once the year is over. If anything, this next year can’t come and go fast enough.”

At some point, Akaashi’s gaze had lifted from the grass and was staring intently at Kuroo’s peaceful face. Sensing that Akaashi was looking at him, Kuroo lowers his head just enough to peek an eye open in question.

“The JVA? As in the Japan Volleyball Association?” Akaashi asks, turning his body slightly to face Kuroo better.

Kuroo nods, bringing his head back down and dropping his arms so he can warm his hands in his pockets.

“That’s amazing news, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi says in an amazed, hushed whisper. His breath comes out in a puff that momentarily clings to his glasses but dissipates soon after. “What is it that you hope to accomplish there? You said they liked what you had to say. I’m intrigued.”

Straightening up some, one of Kuroo’s hands is drawn back from his pocket to rub at the back of his neck.

“Well,” he starts, and Akaashi is only slightly amused by how embarrassed he seems by being put on the spot like this. “You were there when Tsukishima came to us at the gym during mine and Bokuto’s last summer training camp, asking why we all tried so hard when volleyball was ‘just a club.’ During our final match against Karasuno at nationals, I asked how volleyball had been for him. He said it was starting to feel _fun_ . And not long after, that son-of-a-bitch was smiling. Not smirking or sneering like we usually see from him, but _smiling_ . Something about that really stuck with me. Plus, now look at him. That jerk that we could only get to practice blocking with us by taunting him went out on his own and is now playing volleyball _professionally_ . _For fun_. I didn’t even have to light the fire under him for that one. He did that all on his own.”

He takes a moment and runs a hand through his hair. “And not only that,” Kuroo continues. “Lev and Kenma, too. Neither of them play anymore, at least not on a professional level like Tsukishima. Lev’s been scouted by some modeling company, I don’t know if you’ve seen his face popping up around in places with his sister, and you heard about what Kenma’s been up to as well, but from time to time when we’re all free, we still get together with some of the other Nekoma guys and play around for fun. _And that’s the thing_ ,” he says with a force that nearly pushes him to his feet. “Kenma was never the type to openly admit to liking volleyball. Never wanted to try more than he had to. You know, you played with him and against him. You saw how little he’d move when he could manage to get away with it. But after our match against Karasuno, he thanked me for getting him to play volleyball. He said it was _fun_ ,” he voice cracks at the end of his sentence, but he reigns his emotions back in.

“I think that match was a turning point for me,” Kuroo says, eyes transfixed on a tree across the pond where a crow is rustling its wings on an exposed branch as a stray cat is beneath swatting at the trunk. Kuroo smiles at the scene. “This is something only Kenma knows,” he says in a near whisper and Akaashi’s eyes widen slightly but his lips remain pursed. “Our old coach, Nekomata… if it weren’t for him, I doubt I’d be where I am now. He was the one that opened my eyes to the possibilities of playing volleyball. The way I pushed the team, the way I pushed Karasuno, the way I try to push everyone when it comes to playing volleyball… I did it thanks to and also _for_ him. He, quite literally, lowered the net for me when I was a child, and I never forgot how he dragged me into the world of loving volleyball. I may not have chosen the path of going pro, but I want to take what he taught me, what I’ve already started instilling into other people who are struggling, and I want to lower the net for them as well. I want to make as many people as I possibly can see how enjoyable volleyball can be.”

When he finishes, the pair remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Feeling somewhat sheepish, Kuroo rubs the back of his neck again and exhales through his nose. “Sorry, got a little carried away there…”

Finally turning to look at Akaashi, Kuroo freezes and feels his heart rate quicken. Akaashi is smiling at him. It’s small and tender, but it _does something_ to Kuroo. 

“Your passion is infectious, Kuroo-san, much like Bokuto-san’s,” Akaashi says and reaches out a gloved hand to pat Kuroo’s shoulder. “You always were capable of what seemed like the impossible. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that you will continue achieving great things and win over countless others.”

Akaashi draws his hand back with a final squeeze to Kuroo’s shoulder and chuckles. “I’m still surprised about Tsukishima, and Kozume as well. I’m equally impressed that Tsukishima found it in himself to remain friends with you and actually seek hanging out outside of high school and volleyball.”

Kuroo scoffs and rolls his eyes, picking up on Akaashi’s teasing tone and not taking his words to heart. “It’s almost like people can be friends, Akaashi,” he says and nudges the outside of Akaashi’s foot with his own for emphasis, letting it linger there for a moment longer than normal before pulling it away. “Kenma though, yeah that was a surprise even to me. Didn’t show it as much as some other people, because I didn’t want him trying to escape back into his introverted hole of solitude, but I think he’s beyond that at this point. He’s come a long way, and I constantly tell him how proud of him I am, but he just gives me a dirty look and changes the subject.”

“That sounds like Kozume, alright,” Akaashi laughs and settles back with a hum of contentment.

“You really hadn’t seen any of his videos?” Kuroo asks, watching as Akaashi shakes his head.

Perking up, Kuroo pulls his phone from his pocket and shuffles so he’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Akaashi and opens up some video platform Akaashi isn’t familiar with. He taps the screen for a second, and soon after Kozume’s face is filling it up, a gaming headset over his ears and a controller in his hands.

“This one’s my favourite,” Kuroo says as he presses play. “You may recognize someone you know in it.”

They sit in silence as Kozume’s voice echoes out between the two of them. The camera focused on his face is minimized in the upper corner as the game he’s playing takes up the remainder of the screen. He’s verbally replying to comments from the chat every so often as they scroll up off to the side, and from just off screen, the door to his room opens and Kuroo walks in. Kuroo’s mouth is open as if he’s about to say something, but upon realizing that Kozume is in the middle of a stream, he flings his body back out of the way, dragging the door closed behind him.

The slamming of the door startles Kozume enough to where he takes his headset off and looks around before his attention is drawn to the chat spam quickly rushing up the side screen.

_WHO WAS THAT? ARE THEY OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY? KODZUKEN SOMEONE’S IN YOUR HOUSE!!!_

From Kuroo’s phone, Akaashi hears Kozume sigh and rub his face. “That was my idiot best friend. He likes to let himself in like he lives here and probably forgot to check the time for my schedule.”

Out of frame, Kuroo can be heard exclaiming “Not an idiot!” which earns a reaction of laughter from Kozume’s chat, and a glare in the direction of the door from Kozume himself.

The video ends there and Akaashi can’t help but laugh as Kuroo returns to the previous screen and scrolls through some of his other video clips.

They spend about an hour draining Kuroo’s battery, admiring the way Kozume has allowed himself out of his shell doing something he loves. Akaashi asks questions about gaming terms he doesn’t understand and Kuroo answers as best he can thanks to the second hand knowledge he’s obtained through osmosis from Kozume. Not long after, they decide to continue with their walk lest their bones freeze to their core as a breeze had picked up during that time.

As they meander around the curve of the pond in a comfortable silence, Kuroo sticks his hands back into his pockets in an attempt to warm them up. Akaashi takes notice of this and plucks his gloves from his fingers, holding them out to Kuroo.

“What’s this?” Kuroo asks, eyeing the gloves presented to him but making no move to take them.

“Your hands must be cold after holding your phone for so long. I wore them long enough so mine are fine for now. You can wear them if you’d like,” Akaashi replies and gingerly jabs his hand forward in a motion signaling Kuroo to take them.

And Kuroo does, a blush nips along the outer rim of his ears. He thanks Akaashi as he slips them on, digits already becoming more flexible from their almost rigid state as the warmth Akaashi’s own hands built up seeps into his.

As he turns his hands over to inspect them, he notices how perfectly the fabric hugs his fingers. His mind wanders the approximately six inches between him and Akaashi walking beside him, and he wonders how their hands might fit together given this newfound knowledge Kuroo possesses.

The now deeply rooted blush from his ears threatens to curl it’s tendrils down across his cheeks at the thought, and he quickly, and very adamantly, shakes it out of his head.

He clears his throat and sticks his fingers under his armpits, figuring _out of sight, out of mind_.

“So,” Kuroo begins in an attempt to derail his train of thought further, “when did you start wearing glasses? You never wore them in high school, and I don’t remember you ever mentioning wearing contacts or anything like that.”

“Oh, when I stopped being able to see,” Akaashi says almost instantly, tone completely serious. When he steals a glimpse at Kuroo, Akaashi bites his lip at the look of undeniable bewilderment on Kuroo’s face. Though, the attempt is unsuccessful and Akaashi lets out a laugh that crinkles his eyes and wrinkles his nose.

Kuroo thinks he might die right there, buried beneath the frost covered tree they paused under as Kuroo’s feet stopped working, due first from the initial shock of Akaashi’s answer, but then grounded deeper as he felt like an anvil was dropped on his head sinking him into the dirt path.

It’s the most angelic thing Kuroo can ever remember hearing, like god damned bells sprung forth from Akaashi’s vocal chords and rang against his own ear drums.

A breeze sweeps around his shins and tickles his skin as it crawls up the back of his jacket. He shivers yet can’t take his eyes off Akaashi who has finally composed himself, though a smile still lingers on his lips.

“It was a joke, Kuroo-san,” he says, voice still sounding like it’ll seep into Kuroo’s head and melt over his brain, sink to his cover his heart, hardening in place so it’s the only thing he thinks about for the rest of forever, especially considering it’s accompanied by a breathless giggle. “Come on,” Akaashi carries on, extending a hand to grab Kuroo’s bicep and drag him until Kuroo starts walking once more with his own two feet. Once he knows Kuroo’s keeping up, Akaashi drops his arm back down to put his hand into the warm enclosure of his pocket, and Kuroo can feel his skin burning in the area where Akaashi touched him.

Before they can move too far, Kuroo brightens up and calls for Akaashi to stop, earning him a confused look.

“We should take a picture together,” Kuroo suggests, biting back a grin.

_So I can remember the exact moment in the exact place you won over my heart without even trying._

He notices the look of hesitance on Akaashi’s face, a dusting of pink looming on his cheeks Kuroo assumes to be from the cold.

After a moment of thought, Akaashi nods into his scarf before awaiting Kuroo’s instructions.

Grin now overflowing with enough joy to combat one of Bokuto’s own, Kuroo ushers him over to his side and extends an arm out holding his phone so they can both fit into the frame of his camera.

Akaashi’s hands remain in his pockets, unsure of what to do with them otherwise, so Kuroo takes the initiative and drapes an arm casually around Akaashi’s back and restshis hand on his shoulder.

“Is that alright?” he asks, peering at Akaashi’s face through the screen. When Akaashi nods in confirmation, Kuroo smiles and waits for Akaashi to do the same.

It’s not bright and cheery like Kuroo’s own, but small and almost timid. And even so, it’s enough to cause the blush from Kuroo’s ears to his cheeks to stem out further and entwine across the bridge of his nose. He counts down from three and takes a few shots, retrieving his arm from behind Akaashi, and shoving his phone in his pocket.

“I’ll send it to you later if that’s alright. Don’t wanna expose my fingers to the cold if I don’t have to,” he teases, moreso wanting to hide the fact that his hands are currently trembling than actually being cold.

“I don’t mind. Though if you forget, I won’t hesitate to remind you,” Akaashi nudges and continues his journey forward through the remainder of the park.

When Kuroo catches up, he has yet another idea come to mind.

“Would you mind if I put it online as well? Instagram, I mean. I bet everyone would enjoy seeing you’re still alive without me having to send it to every number in my contacts list.”

“Oh yeah, about that,” Akaashi starts and for some reason Kuroo feels his blood run cold.

_Bad idea?_

“I was actually considering making an account myself. Last night had me thinking about everything I’ve been missing out on, and I’d rather not go any longer without seeing everyone to some degree,” he finishes and looks at Kuroo - Kuroo, who feels like his heart has all but exploded for the nth time today.

“Oh, yeah? I think it would be a good idea. You can catch up with all of Bokuto’s dumb posts as well.”

“Oh, worry not,” Akaashi chuckles, “he makes sure to send them all to me before he even considers posting whatever it is that he does.”

“Ah, no surprise there then,” Kuroo muses, brow slightly furrowed at the last image he remembered Bokuto posting of himself wearing the head to their team’s mascot suit. He can’t help but wonder Akaashi’s reaction to it if Bokuto had sent it to him personally.

“Maybe this weekend if you have time, since I know classes start back up in a few days and everything, so I understand if you’re busy… But maybe you could help me do that,” Akaashi murmurs, eyes fixed straight ahead, not daring to look at Kuroo - Kuroo, who once again, feels like he’s one second from shooting off into space.

“I think I could manage for you,” he responds, prepared to mentally kick himself for wording that the way he did, not wanting Akaashi to think he was weird or desparate to see him more. To hear his laugh more, if he’s lucky.

Instead, Akaashi just nods and burrows the lower half of his face into his scarf.

They reach the opposite edge of the park from where they started before long, and Kuroo turns to face Akaashi, head tilted slightly to the side.

“Oh, by the way, how’re you feeling now?” he asks, trying to read what little face Akaashi has exposed to the elements.

“You know,” Akaashi’s voice is muffled behind his scarf before he lifts his head, displaying the tempting little smile that’s on his lips, “I actually forgot I had a headache. It’s definitely gone now. Thank you for the walk, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo lights up like a tree on Christmas and nods in approval. “Good! Just as planned then, yeah?”

Akaashi nods in agreement before taking his phone out to check the time.

“Well,” he starts, pocketing it and his hands once more, “I better head back now. There’s a few things I would like to try and finish up before classes if that’s alright with you.”

As much as Kuroo wants to say ‘no,’ as much as he wants to spend more time with Akaashi, he merely nods in agreement. “I suppose I did keep you out for longer than you anticipated, I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Now, I wouldn’t word it like that,” Akaashi says with a soft tut, “I had an enjoyable time.”

Kuroo nods, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from embarrassing himself by saying something cheesy.

“Oh!” he then says, lifting his hands to take off Akaashi’s gloves. Before he can wiggle a single finger from their warm enclosure, Akaashi extends a hand and pushes Kuroo’s down with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Kuroo-san. You can give them back this weekend, I don’t need them right now.”

Kuroo drops his hands back to his sides and nods as he watches Akaashi who bows his head and turns to leave.

“Though I’m sure I’ll hear from you before then,” he calls out over his shoulder and heads in the direction of his apartment.

As he walks away, Akaashi can’t help but think that he truly did have a good time meeting up with Kuroo. How Kuroo was easier to talk to than he anticipated. How they already had follow up plans to meet up again over the weekend.

 _Huh…_ Akaashi thinks.

And then… 

_Click_.

***

Kuroo stands there dumbfounded for a minute, the blush he oh so desperately tried to keep at bay blooming across his entire face. He turns on his heel and speed walks in the opposite direction of Akaashi.

After a short commute and a brisk walk down the street, Kuroo slams open a front door, kicks off his shoes, and stomps down a hallway. Throwing a door open, Kozume startles in his gaming chair and turns to shoot him a glare.

“What the hell, Kur-”

Before Kozume can finish, Kuroo is face first on the floor groaning.

“I’m done for, Ke- Kodzuken.”

Kozume’s chat explodes in question. Kozume just sighs.

***

That night, as Akaashi is typing away in an open word document on his laptop, his phone lights up with a new notification. Glancing down, he reads Kuroo’s name and picks it up, unlocking it in the process.

As he opens the app, a laugh bubbles up and escapes his lips as he stares at the photo in the thread.

It is, as he expected, the photo from earlier that day. However Kuroo had taken it upon himself to embellish it in a million little hearts and smiley face emojis.

It’s…

Well, it’s a sight to behold.

Just as Akaashi is going to send him a message along the lines of ‘what the hell is this, Kuroo-san?’ Kuroo drops the original photo in the thread as well.

Akaashi admires them for a few moments, eyes flicking downward as he notices Kuroo beginning to type.

**Kuroo** : I hope you’re having a good night! Thanks for coming out to meet me today! (^^)ｂ

Before responding, Akaashi saves the second photo.

…

And the first.

**Akaashi** : No, thank you.

Watching as Kuroo emphasizes the message Akaashi sent with a pair of exclamation points, he locks his phone and turns it over so he can once again return to his work.

It doesn’t last long, however, as his phone pings again with a new notification. Turning it back over, Akaashi unlocks his phone and instantly buries his face in his free hand upon reading the message.

**Kuroo** : I’m glad to have you back, Akaashi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> I told myself I'd take my time working on this next bit, but then I sat down this morning and started typing... And kept typing... And then took a 2 hour class... And finished typing... And my eyes are tired and my back is sore, but my love for Kuroo and Akaashi transcends this realm of existence. I hope you enjoy these two idiots as much as I do!
> 
> I am also very passionate about Kuroo and him making other people love volleyball, whoops definitely got a little worked up writing all that.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> Find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt)!
> 
> (Akaashi voice) what does pog mean?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small filler chapter to lay the groundwork for the next one. I have about 4K words of notes alone that are constantly being added to, and I’m trying to figure out if I want to break it up or just throw everything together into one, wrap it with a bow, and hand it to you all to feast upon. Until then though, I hope you enjoy!

Both Akaashi and Kuroo spend Wednesday mentally preparing for classes to begin again come Thursday. 

They prepare differently, as one might expect. 

Akaashi sits in his kitchen, a gentle arrangement of piano instrumentals playing through his earbuds as he works on the reading assigned at the start of the syllabus for one of his classes. He has a cup of tea steaming in one hand, just far enough from his face so that it can’t fog up his glasses, while his other hand props up his chin. 

Kuroo, on the other hand, is lying so far beneath Kozume’s kotatsu table that his socked toes are sticking out from the far end of the blanket. He’s on his stomach, chest and chin resting on a comfortable, plush pillow as his arms stretch out before him so he can use his phone.

He’s texting back and forth with Bokuto, who has since been bugging him nonstop (or at least as long as “nonstop” is when his schedule will allow it) since their video call from Akaashi’s phone the other night.

Kozume is sitting at a side of the table to Kuroo’s left, legs crossed since Kuroo is hogging most of the room. He’s typing away at his laptop, occasionally jotting something down in a notebook to the side with a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

From what he had briefly mentioned to Kuroo before Kuroo had made himself at home as per usual, he was going over numbers for sponsoring Hinata. On top of working on his streaming schedule. Which he hopes to get all in order before he, too, starts classes again.

Since he looked rather peeved when Kuroo showed up unannounced, Kuroo decided it best to remain silent until Kozume was finished working.

Eventually, Kozume sighs and glances at Kuroo, eyeing who it is that he is texting at the top of his screen. Satisfied with the work he had gotten done, Kozume announces his completion by asking “When are you going to tell Bokuto-san that you have - have  _ had _ \- a thing for  _ his _ best friend for as long as we’ve known him?”

The sudden sound of Kozume’s voice startles Kuroo and he drops his phone with a slight jump. Retrieving it off the floor and huffing, Kuroo rolls onto his side, propping his torso up on an elbow so he can see Kozume over the table from where he lies.

“What’s it matter to you?” Kuroo asks, brow raised as he ignores the ping notification his phone gives off as Bokuto sends him another text.

“Don’t you think he has a right to know, not only as Akaashi’s best friend, but your friend as well?” Kozume suggests as he closes his laptop and rests his chin upon the arms he crosses over it. “I mean, not that you’re actively  _ pursuing _ Akaashi at this point, but you’re starting to, or at least trying to, hang out with him more now that we know he’s still alive. If you’re lucky and something starts to build from all of that, don’t you think Bokuto-san would feel hurt that you never told him beforehand?”

_ Goddamn Kenma and his goddamned insightfulness… _

Kuroo groans, continuing his roll so he’s on his back and grabs the table to pull himself into a seated position, his previously exposed toes relishing in their newly discovered warmth now beneath the blanket. He mimics Kozume’s position - arms crossed over the table with his chin resting on top of them - and sighs through his nose.

“I guess you have a point,” he mutters and turns his head to the side so his cheek is resting on his arms instead and he peers at Kozume who holds his gaze, unblinking. Kuroo whines, already having lost the mental battle without a word between them and turns his head back so that his forehead replaces his cheek. “Why do you have to be so smart?” It’s a quiet mumble spoken to the table but it draws a quiet chuckle from Kozume.

“You’re my best friend,” Kozume shares. “Akaashi, though it’s been years and he only came back into my life a couple days ago, is my friend. The same goes for Bokuto-san. I care about your feelings whether you feign disbelief at the idea of it or not. I care about their feelings, too. I don’t want anyone getting hurt from the situation I know you want to try and create. There are numerous outcomes that can come from it. Akaashi could reciprocate your feelings. They may be rejected. You two could get together without Bokuto-san knowing, and he’d be upset. I’m sure that, in turn, would upset Akaashi. You two could get together  _ with _ Bokuto-san knowing, and then everybody wins. If you want to do this, I think you should go the route that makes everybody happy planning it on the assumption that  _ yes _ , Akaashi feels the same way you do.”

As Kozume speaks, Kuroo listens. He doesn’t interrupt. If there was one thing he learned from the - how many has it been now, anyway? Fourteen?-ish? - years they’ve been friends, it’s that Kozume is  _ smart _ . It’s something those at their old high school that were Kuroo’s seniors didn’t quite grasp, but something Kuroo and the rest knew and held onto dearly until their seniors departed, allowing them to display Kozume for the world to see. Or at least, at that time, the world built within a rectangle eighteen meters long, and nine meters wide, inhabited by no more than twelve individuals at any given moment. So to have Kozume lay it all out for him like that, blunt and raw and meticulous, Kuroo can’t help but take every word he says to heart.

He sits silently for a minute, forehead still pressed to his forearms. Kozume’s eyes are still on him, though his gaze has turned gentle since finishing his speech.

Once Kuroo has collected himself, he raises his head and gives a short nod. “Alright, I’ll tell him, but I’ll do it after this weekend,” he inhales deeply in an attempt to steady his racing heart. “As long as he’s still okay with it, I’ll be seeing Akaashi then… We’ll see where my feelings sit after that. If they’re still where they are now, I’ll tell Bokuto.”

Kuroo finishes expressing his thought process with another nod of the head before looking back to Kozume who is smiling at him. Lifting his head just enough to stretch out an arm, Kozume pats the top of Kuroo’s hand closest to him.

“Good,” Kozume hums before pulling his hand back and smirking, “And if you don’t, Akaashi gave me his number at the bar. I’ll just tell him everything myself.”

Before Kuroo can retaliate in any way, Kozume pushes himself from the table and stands, sauntering in the direction of his gaming room. “Now come on,” he calls over his shoulder, “hurry it up, we have a stream to start.”

***

Hours pass, and before Akaashi knows it the sun is setting and his eyes are squinting at his textbook as he hadn’t mentally registered the impending darkness. His neck creaks as he straightens himself in his chair, having slowly leaned more and more forward the deeper he got into his reading. A groan escapes his lips as he closes his eyes and cranes his neck from left to right and back again, feeling something pop along the line that causes him to whimper softly.

Blinking his eyes back open, he stands and shuffles over to flip the light switch, illuminating his kitchen and momentarily blinding himself. As he regains his senses, he checks the time from the clock hanging on the wall near his refrigerator.

It’s nearing five in the evening, and since he already finished the first few assigned chapters and started on one for the week after, he silently declares to be done for the day and instead starts preparing dinner. After removing his book, notes, and other supplies from the table and returning them to his bedroom, Akaashi stares at the few appliances set across his kitchen countertop and ponders.

He’s not really in the mood to put in too much effort tonight, though he knows he should, considering class tomorrow. His eyes linger on one of the overhead cabinets, and soon after his fingers find themselves wrapping around the small knob to pull it open.

Inside his eyes flick back and forth between a small assortment of instant noodles. He quickly weighs the pros and cons of having a more filling meal and how it’ll affect his performance tomorrow, but when his stomach roars to life like a lion disturbed from its slumber, he pulls a cup from the cabinet and sets it on the counter.

It won’t be much work to prepare a side of rice, he thinks, figuring it’ll help fill his stomach a little more than just the cup of noodles.

Before he can roll up his sleeves to work on washing some to cook, his phone pings from where it is on the table, earning it his attention. As he steps over, Akaashi reads Bokuto’s name on the screen before it fades to black.

Picking up his phone and unlocking it in the process, Akaashi taps the icon to open his message app and is greeted with a selfie of the aforementioned man, sporting a smile so large it seems to take up half his face and force his eyes to squint shut.

Akaashi chuckles at the sight before reading the accompanying message.

**Bokuto** : Akaashi!!! Just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow with class! Practice is gonna run late tonight so I wanted to make sure I caught you before you go to bed!! Give it your best!!! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

A warmth blooms in his chest at the supportive words from his best friend. Though everyone outside of Fukurodani knew Akaashi to be the one to manage Bokuto when he got down on himself, what they didn’t know was that there were countless times where Bokuto saw right through Akaashi and picked him up when he needed it, too.

_ It’s that Akaashi-sense, huh? _

He taps Bokuto a reply back, thanking him and wishing him luck during practice in return, before heading back to his sink where his rice is waiting.

However, before he begins this time, he pauses with an idea.

Phone still in hand, Akaashi opens its internet browser and clicks the search bar on the home screen. He watches the keyboard pop up, and as he goes to type, his thumbs hover for a moment and his brows furrow.

_ Where was it that Kuroo-san showed me those videos of Kozume… _

He wracks his brain for a minute, finger pressing down on a character only to erase it with a small huff a second later.

His stomach growls again, louder this time than before, and it’s as if the feeling shakes him to his core, traveling up his spine and into the deepest wrinkles of his temporal lobe where it shakes free a hint at what he’s looking for from his memory.

Kozume’s alternate name used for gaming claws its way to Akaashi’s attention, so he quickly taps ‘ _ Kodzuken _ ’ into the search bar before it can fall victim to being forgotten.

As the page loads, Akaashi snaps his fingers in an  _ a-ha! _ moment as he opens the first link labeled ‘ _ Twitch _ .’ To his relief, everything on the page rings familiar, and a smile tickles the corner of his lip out of pride at having figured it out.

He planned on playing some more clips to accompany him as he prepared his dinner, curious to see more from what Kuroo had already shown him. Before he can do that though, he notices that the top video listed on Kozume’s channel is embellished with a little, bright red square in the upper left corner that indicates that he is currently live. Even better than that, in the thumbnail Akaashi can make out not only Kozume from the small face cam off to the side, but Kuroo as well.

Curiosity gripping his hand and forcibly taking the proverbial wheel, Akaashi taps on the image and waits for an advertisement to finish loading with anticipation and a child-like wonder. The ad finally ends and Akaashi, delighted, props his phone against the back wall of the counter so he can watch.

From over the running water, Akaashi can hear Kuroo’s laugh bark out from his phone speaker and he shakes his head at the sound, though it’s not a reaction out of annoyance but rather enjoyment.

Over the years that Akaashi’s been at university, his apartment had never really been a place of gathering as he hadn’t focused on making any new friends and lost touch with old. It was nice to have the walls filled with talking that wasn’t his own over the phone to his parents or Bokuto; it was nice to have it filled with the sounds of laughter.

Even if it was the shrill cackle of Kuroo’s hyena laugh.

His eyes travel back and forth between his phone screen and the rice in his hands as he cleanses each grain. Once the water is muddied with starch, he drains it and replaces it, methodically repeating the process again.

Turning his attention back to the stream now that his system of washing and draining is set, he takes note of how the gaming screen is split in two, one obviously for Kuroo, and one for Kozume. He can easily tell that the half of the screen that isn’t performing as well is Kuroo, not only by the sheer fact that Kozume is, and always has been better at playing games than Kuroo and everyone else he ever met, but the fact that Kuroo’s head flies back and he releases a cry of anguish into the microphone once the word  _ Defeat _ flashes on one side of the screen.

Akaashi reads some of the incoming comments, fully encouraging and supportive of Kuroo, and he can tell this isn’t the first time Kuroo has made an appearance on Kozume’s stream (clip of him diving off screen aside). These strangers seem to hold Kuroo just as much in high regards as they do Kozume, and he embraces them warmly with thanks and a gentle laugh.

It’s like seeing a side of Kuroo Akaashi hadn’t experienced before. Sure, they attended the same training camps and practiced with each other well into the evening; sure, they had matches against one another; sure, they were both friends with Bokuto who dragged them around from time to time doing lord knows what; and sure, they were friendly enough with one another alone that Akaashi would place them someone on the scale teetering between acquaintances and friends… But  _ this _ …  _ This _ Kuroo felt different. As if this was the Kuroo reserved for his teammates at Nekoma. This was the Kuroo reserved for his  _ friends _ . And here he sat on screen beside Kozume, freely giving that carefully curated warmth and acceptance to tens of thousands of strangers across not only Japan, but the world.

Something in Akaashi’s heart aches at the thought of it, of not personally being on the receiving end of that warmth from Kuroo.

As Akaashi mulls over his own thoughts, Kozume transitions between screens so he and Kuroo are the main focus now.

“Alright,” Kozume says, speaking to the people in the chat, “we’re going to go back and pick out some of the questions to answer that we may have missed while playing… Ah, here we go,” he pauses with a smirk before clearing his throat and turning to address Kuroo.

“OMG, Kuroo-san are you single?” Kozume’s voice is laced with light mockery, and he ends with a giggle at the way Kuroo’s face twitches, though Akaashi’s phone is too small for him to pick up on it himself.

He drains his rice, replenishes the water, and repeats a few more times until it starts to run clear, turning his attention back to the stream.

“I feel like we’ve gotten this question every time I’m on here,” Kuroo laughs. “And my answer is still the same,” he waggles his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Kozume snorts and makes a quiet, off-hand comment as he scrolls through more of the chat.

“Keep up what you’re doing and next time you’re on, hopefully you can just say ‘no.’”

At that, the chat explodes with a plethora of questions, and Akaashi is just as curious as to what Kozume means by that.

_ OH KURO-SA~N!!  _

_ WHO’S THE LUCKY GIRL? _

_ WHAT’S SHE LIKE? _

_ IS SHE PRETTY? _

_ SO YOU’RE SAYING I DON’T HAVE A CHANCE? T^T _

Akaashi’s hand falters in the water.

_ Keep up what you’re doing? _

Kuroo is obviously flustered by the sudden attention and stutters between looking at the ever expanding chat messages and glaring at Kozume.

“Ah, well,” he says almost sheepishly, and Akaashi finds it rather cute.

_ Wait _ .

_ Cute? _

His hand flinches at the realization of his own thoughts, accidentally knocking some of the rice from the water. He curses as he gathers it up, though his eyes are still trained on his phone. He begins moving to drain it one last time as Kuroo continues.

“To start, it’s not a she. He’s a guy-”

That gets Akaashi to freeze in place, an unwarranted cold washing over him and chilling him to the bone beyond anything the frigid January air could accomplish.

_ WHAT’S HIS NAME?? _ ?

The chat is in an absolute frenzy now, wanting to know every last detail about the man Kuroo seems to be so enamored by.

“Uh,” Kuroo starts, looking hesitant, as if he doesn’t know how to respond.

Kozume’s hand shoots out to cover his mouth before acknowledging the chat.

“Sorry,” he says to the viewers, giving Kuroo a pointed look before dropping his hand. “I’d rather not drag him into this. He’s a friend of mine as well, and I don’t want word getting out and him feeling pressured into anything. Just let this idiot here try and work things out and if things do, great. If not, oh well. Anyway, next question-”

Kuroo excuses himself then, and Kozume continues unbothered.

Akaashi is not only shocked by how direct and firm Kozume had been when he said that, but that the person Kuroo seems to be interested in is a friend of Kozume’s, too.

_ Is it someone I might know then? _ Akaashi thinks, mindlessly starting the cooker and sitting back at the table.

He has since locked his phone, ears too busy ringing with a slurry of thoughts to the point he couldn’t hear Kozume’s voice.

He sits with his head in his hands, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth, feeling like time is dragging despite how fast it’s actually passing.

As his rice finishes and he readies his instant noodles, he sets everything down at the table, but when he sits he makes no move to pick up his utensils.

Why does this sudden information make him feel like this?

_ Why does he feel sick? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Kenma is listed as a YouTuber, but I wanted to make him a Twitch streamer who uploads his vods/streams to YouTube after the fact, and also posts non-stream related content to YouTube from time to time; so this is where Kuroo was showing clips from in the previous chapter :)
> 
> Also, thank you very much for continuing to read thus far, and for your kind words! Thank you especially to the people that subscribed to the story!! Prior to the first chapter, it was a statistic I had forgotten about since previously falling out of writing and reading fics, so when I happened across it and noticed there were 14 of you eagerly anticipating new chapters, my heart couldn't help but sing with joy! 
> 
> I have some beautiful lines prepared for upcoming chapters that took hold of my heart and squeezed it until I cried, and it makes me a little sad to know that their beauty would be better and more thoroughly appreciated if I were writing for a main pairing in the fandom rather than a rarepair. But I'm still happy to share, because rarepairs deserve love too! :)
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment or reach out to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt/)! And if you're moved to share this story with friends or anyone else who may not initially consider the idea of KurooAka, I'd love that as well! ♡


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a filthy liar!! I said I would have Bokuto physically show in this chapter, but then I got carried away… And then I said I’d get this chapter out sooner than I did, but then life happened and I got sidetracked by class… And well… NEXT CHAPTER HE’LL FINALLY SHOW UP FOR REALSIES, I’M SO SORRY. BUT PLEASE ENJOY!!

Thursday comes and… it… goes. Eventually. But not before dragging out for as long as seemingly possible. 

Akaashi always thought Hell Day, the third day at Nationals during high school, was violent in both name and how physically and mentally demanding it was. Yet he feels more worn out now than he ever did playing volleyball or staying late to practice extra with Bokuto.

He tells himself it has everything to do with how strenuous his classes are going to be heading into the semester, and absolutely nothing to do with the fact he could hardly stomach his dinner from last night and the fact that he could barely bring himself to fall asleep… Yeah. _Definitely_ not that.

 _At least there’s only tomorrow and then it’s the weekend already,_ he tells himself as he toes his shoes off once inside his apartment, _and then Kuroo-san will-_

 _Ah_.

Akaashi pauses midway between his front door and his kitchen table where he was planning to sit down and ferment with his head in his hands for the unforeseeable future.

However, before his thoughts can wander further on the subject, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and feels his heart drop at the name that fades on the screen.

It’s as if the gods have it out for him. By some twist of fate for what already feels like the hundredth twist since Monday Akaashi finds himself unlocking his phone to read an incoming message from none other than _the_ Kuroo Tetsuro.

His stomach knots in unease as he opens his messages, unsure of what to expect… unsure as to why he feels like this anyway.

**_Kuroo_ **: Hey! (´∀`) Just got done with my last class of the day. I realized I never asked about your schedule. Hopefully it hasn’t been too bad for the first day back. And if you’re still in class, good luck!

Akaashi contemplates responding. Should he pretend he didn’t see it as fast as he did? How long is too long before a response anyway? Or rather, how soon is too soon?

Letting out a huff of annoyance at his brain for putting in overtime after he just got back from class, he chooses the route of locking his phone and setting it on the kitchen table so he can go overthink while bathing instead.

Once his school bag is disposed of in his room, his clothes are quick to follow as he trudges into the bathroom to prepare the bath, leaving a trail of garments in his wake.

***

Kuroo takes note of the near immediate read receipt he receives from Akaashi once his initial text goes through. As he walks down the street towards his apartment from campus, he watches his phone screen, waiting to see what Akaashi will respond with.

When there’s no indication of him typing as he approaches his apartment building, Kuroo shrugs and pockets his phone as he ascends the stairs.

 _Maybe he got sidetracked. I know I’ve done that plenty of times,_ he thinks as he unlocks his front door and steps inside.

His shoes are off within a second with a practiced ease, and he eagerly paws through his kitchen for a snack to collapse on his bed with. Settling for a small bag of chips, he roams into his bedroom where he gracelessly throws himself atop his comforter and begins scrolling through his phone.

When a considerable enough amount of time passes in which Kuroo still has not heard back from Akaashi, he decides to hit him with a short video of a kitten trying to chase the red dot from a laser pointer up a wall and falling between the side of a bed and the wall itself. He has no shame when it comes to double texting. 

However, just as he’s about to press ‘send,’ a message comes through from the man in question himself.

**_Akaashi_ **: Thank you, Kuroo-san. I just got out of the bath and I think that helped a lot. It was a pretty stressful first day back, but at least it’s over now.

_Ah, well that explains why he didn’t get back to me sooner._

**_Akaashi_ **: And how was your day?

Kuroo plays back his day in his head. Much like Akaashi’s own it seemed, his was also full of needless stress and unsettling anxieties. Not wanting to bother the other with his own woes though, Kuroo deletes the video he was about to send, and decides to bend the truth the slightest bit.

**_Kuroo_ **: Thought you were gonna leave me on read, my dearest Akaashi. (ノД`)・゜・。Everything’s been fine for me, no complaints! 

Unlike earlier, Akaashi’s next text arrives soon after.

**_Akaashi_ **: We’ll just move right along from that first part. I’m glad to hear everything went well. What are you up to now?

Kuroo looks down at the empty bag of chips resting atop his chest before choosing to respond.

**_Kuroo_ **: Getting ready for dinner! I’ve got some light reading to do as well for one of my classes, but that’s all the work I have at the moment so thankfully I’m not too bogged down. I’ll probably get that done once I finish eating. And what’re you up to besides taking a refreshing bath?

At that, Kuroo forces himself up and off his bed. He catches the empty chip bag as it flutters down from his chest and drags his feet into the kitchen where he disposes of it. 

He carefully considers the pros and cons of making dinner versus going and picking something up; that careful consideration is followed by him _carefully_ making his way to the door, _carefully_ slipping his shoes and jacket back on, and _carefully_ leaving the complex and turning right at the gate to head towards one of his favourite restaurants for some grilled sanma.

In the short time since he had arrived at his apartment, the sun had finished setting from where it had been hugging the horizon. The air is a little chillier than Kuroo had remembered, causing him to curse for not bringing a scarf as wind nips at his nose.

Thankfully, the restaurant is only a five minute walk down the street from where he currently is. He picks up the pace, breath coming out in gentle puffs as he trudges along. His phone vibrates in his back pocket, notifying him of a new message he can only assume to be from Akaashi, but given how cold his hands are balled up in the pockets of his jacket, he can’t be bothered to pull it out and check.

When he finally arrives, he ducks in through the door and steps up to the counter where he places an order to go. He then takes an empty seat near the entrance while he waits. He curls and unfurls his fingers, rubs his hands together, and cups them close to his mouth in an effort to try and warm them up with his breath.

Once they no longer creak in agony at the motion, he pulls his phone from his pocket to read what Akaashi has to say.

**_Akaashi_ **: Good. Make sure you eat plenty to regain your energy. I’m sure you had a day even longer than mine, considering it’s your last semester.

Kuroo can’t help but snort at the way Akaashi read him like an open book. All these years of putting up with Bokuto must have made him a master of reading between the lines.

**_Kuroo_ **: Alright, you caught me. It was a little hectic. But to make up for it, I’ve decided to pick up my favourite food to help recover, so no need to worry about me regaining my energy!

 **_Akaashi_ **: Happy to hear it. Make sure you get plenty of rest once you’re done eating and reading, too. If you don’t think you’ll have time for this weekend either, I’d understand.

_Whoa, whoa. What? Where did that come from?_

Kuroo reads the message over once - twice more, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out if something he said in just the few short messages he had exchanged with Akaashi set him off.

Confused, he types a reply and pockets his phone as his food is set on the counter for him to pick up.

The gears in his head begin turning as he braves the cold once more, hopefully for the last time that night.

***

 **_Kuroo_ **: What’s with that all of a sudden? Naturally I’ll have time. No way I’m gonna miss out on bringing Captain Apathy to the battleground known as social media.

 **_Akaashi_ **: I just don’t want you forcing yourself if you’ll be too busy is all. 

**_Akaashi_ **: Also, please stop referring to me as Captain Apathy.

Akaashi heaves a sigh as he pushes himself up from the table and carries his empty dinner dishes to the kitchen sink to wash.

What is currently driving him to act like this towards Kuroo? 

Validation? 

_Jealousy?_

It’s been a full twenty-four hours since he watched Kozume’s stream and the way Kuroo was outed for liking someone. 

Someone Akaashi himself may very well know as an acquaintance.

The reminder twists Akaashi’s heart in a way he wasn’t quite familiar with, and as his hand reaches up to cling at his shirt just above where his heart lies, he lets out another sigh. With this one though, he wavers a little where he stands, lightheaded and dizzy. Bokuto’s voice from high school rings in his ears, warning him how ‘one of these days he’ll pass out from all the sighing he does,’ and how ‘Kuroo says I don’t have enough brain cells to know what to do if a situation like that were to happen.’

Akaashi shakes his head as Kuroo’s face manifests across the back of his eyelids at the sudden flashback, ridding it from his mind’s eye. He tries to veer his attention to the dishes in his sink. He thinks about his day at class. He mentally goes through his various syllabi. He scrubs and scrubs and _scrubs_ the same plate over and over again before setting it aside to dry. He repeats these same processes until enough time has passed that the tips of his fingers have begun to prune. It was only two dishes, a bowl, the utensils and few items of cookware total, but the time it had taken to accomplish this had lasted well over half an hour.

Another sigh escapes from behind previously pursed lips as he squeezes his eyes shut and balls his damp fists in frustration at his temples.

Images of Kuroo’s face once again flash across the back of his eyelids despite everything he had tried in order to distract himself. The palpitations of his heart quicken at an alarming rate, and he moves to sit back down at the table where he works on steading both his heart rate and his breathing.

 _What is going on?_ he thinks as he grips the palm of his left hand with the thumb from his right, nail digging into flesh in an effort to ground himself back to reality.

He’s further brought back to reality when his phone pings from across the table, and Kuroo’s name lights up the screen.

His chest tightens again as he reaches across to grab and unlock his phone.

**_Kuroo_ **: Sorry, overstepped with the nickname. But I’ll have plenty of time, Akaashi! Tomorrow’s only the second day, so I doubt there will be anything too strenuous to worry about over the weekend.

Before Akaashi can even think to respond, another message comes through.

**_Kuroo_ **: I genuinely had a good time with you the other day, if that makes you feel any better. I don’t know what’s on your mind, but I’m looking forward to seeing you this weekend as well.

Akaashi bites his tongue to keep from sighing as he reads over Kuroo’s messages. Kuroo had always been one to get under a person’s skin and push every last one of their buttons, stopping only short of the final button that would cause said person to combust.

Kuroo here felt different. Even more so than the Kuroo he experienced during Kozume’s stream from last night. During high school (aside from hanging out with Bokuto), Kuroo tended to have an air of maturity around him, more often than not. He knew when the appropriate time to goof around was, and knew when it was time to be serious. It was something Akaashi admired about him, though there were definitely moments where he would have willingly pushed Kuroo in front of a train if the opportunity presented itself. Those moments were few and far between, thankfully.

But since reconnecting the other day, Kuroo had been welcoming and kind and open with Akaashi. It was as if his maturity grew and adapted with Kuroo as he aged.

The sickening panic that had been threatening to wash over Akaashi was replaced with a subtle warmth. As if Kuroo’s words of encouragement and validation were like a safety blanket wrapped around Akaashi’s shoulders.

So requiring some sort of validation was in fact part of what Akaashi was searching for. If the underlying jealousy came back to rear its ugly head, though Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure _jealousy_ was exactly what he was feeling, he’d deal with that at a later date.

This was enough for now.

**_Akaashi_ **: Thank you, Kuroo-san. I guess I’m a little too stressed over classes already, I apologize for starting to take it out on you. I’m looking forward to seeing you this weekend as well.

 **_Akaashi_ **: Speaking of, would meeting up here at my place work?

His heart rate momentarily quickens again as he presses send and drops his phone onto the table, eyes glued to the screen. It’s as if his emotions were parkouring from one extreme to the other. From anxiety-riddled to excited and back to nervous as he watched Kuroo’s typing bubble pop up on screen.

_Who goes from having a near panic attack to inviting over the guy that would’ve been the cause of it? What am I thinking?_

What he’s thinking, he realizes, is that when he heard Kuroo’s laugh ring out in the walls of his kitchen yesterday from the speaker of his phone, he wanted to hear that exact sound in person. He wants to experience the crinkles that form around Kuroo’s eyes when he smiles. He wants to experience the way he clutches his stomach when he doubles over laughing. He wants to experience what it’s like to have friends over. To have laughter fill the silent void that currently surrounds him, making him feel like he’s going to be swallowed whole by it.

Akaashi’s vision begins to blur the longer he stares at the screen, eyes going crossed from focus. Once the typing bubble is replaced with actual text, Akaashi holds his breath and recenters his vision.

**_Kuroo_ **: So long as you don’t mind me knowing where you live or having me come serenade you outside your window, that’s fine with me! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips at not only the message, but the image of Kuroo doing exactly as described.

**_Akaashi_ **: Please do try to behave yourself, Kuroo-san. My address is: …

Though it’s not much, Akaashi decides, some of the weight that had started weighing down on him since yesterday has begun to lift. It feels easier to breathe. Easier to see. Easier to think, and feel, and _relax_. He’s still not one hundred percent back to how he normally feels, and still isn’t confident in why he even feels the way he currently does, but it’s a start. With just a few simple words from Kuroo, Akaashi already feels more comfortable and at ease.

**_Kuroo_ **: Guess I’ll see you then! I’m finally about to eat and then start on my reading so I have ample time to bother you this weekend. So you won’t have to worry about me being too busy. ;) Enjoy the rest of your night, Akaashi!

_You, too, Kuroo-san. Enjoy the rest of your night as well. Thank you._

*******

Kuroo is… nervous.

But he has no real reason to be, right? It’s not like he’s visiting the apartment of the man he’s had a crush on since high school or anything like that. That he painfully pined after and wondered about after he seemingly dropped off the face of the earth for years. That he desperately wanted to hold the hand of and see how perfectly it fit with his. That he-

Okay. So, yeah. He’s definitely a little nervous.

Or by the way his stomach flips when the subway slows and his stop is called: a lot nervous.

According to Akaashi’s directions, Kuroo is only a couple blocks from his apartment. A mere ten minute walk separates the two of them.

Kuroo swallows dryly, the back of his throat feels like it cracks open and burns as saliva coats it, and the action forces him to cough as he steps off the subway and onto the platform. He digs his hands into his jacket pockets as he turns to exit the station and heads on his way towards Akaashi’s apartment.

In his pockets, he can feel Akaashi’s borrowed gloves brush against his fingers. His thoughts momentarily linger on putting them on to help warm his frigid hands, but instead his fingers curl around them in a vise-grip that whitens his knuckles to the point that they ache.

As Kuroo carries himself down the street, his gaze shifts back and forth between his phone screen where a map is directing him towards his destination, and the signs indicating all the shops and restaurants he is passing. Aside from working as landmarks to confirm he is, in fact, walking in the right direction, one sign in particular draws his attention. His pace slows until he comes to a full stop in front of a small building wedged between an electronic store and a pet shop.

 _Ani-giri_ , the sign reads, accompanied by a plethora of photoshopped rice balls in the shape of various animal heads. From what Kuroo remembers during their training camps and even in the few brief moments outside them, Akaashi had always been partial to onigiri. 

The thought of Akaashi’s reaction alone to Kuroo showing up with some is packed with enough force to send him straight through the door and up to the front counter. His wallet feels considerably lighter as he steps back out into the cold, carry-out bag full of cat-shaped onigiri in hand. He nods in affirmation at his purchase as his free hand finds solace in the warmth of his jacket pocket once more, fingers lightly lacing with those of Akaashi’s empty glove.

As an oncoming breeze whips against the now exposed skin of his hand carrying the onigiri, Kuroo once more briefly considers putting the gloves on. Instead of complying with his internal desires, he silently curses himself for not having brought his own, and powers down the street embracing the icy coils of wind that sneak between the cracks of his fingers and wrap around his palm.

The cold and wind is a good distraction from the growing nerves that bubble up from the pit of his stomach and rattle around his chest, threatening to spill up from his throat and out his mouth.

He has since memorized the remaining corners and turns on the map that separates him from Akaashi’s apartment, and before he knows it, he’s standing before his complex. He removes the hand currently balled inside his pocket, using it to take the bag from the other, allowing his now frozen digits some semblance of reprieve in the warmth of it’s own pocket as he heads up the outer staircase to Akaashi’s landing.

Walking down the landing, he doesn’t know whether his heart is going to jump from his throat, beat out his chest, or drop to his stomach. It answers his own questions as he comes to a stop in front of the numbered door Akaashi had indicated as his own; his heart stops as he does, too.

Before he can turn and run, tail between his legs like a timid puppy, Kuroo raises his fist and knocks loudly on the door.

He holds his breath and counts.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

_F-..._

The sound of shuffling is heard from beyond the door, soon followed by the unlatching of a chain and the turning of the knob.

Kuroo’s heart has since picked back up and is now drumming against his ribcage so ferociously, he wouldn’t be surprised if Akaashi’s neighbors end up filing a noise complaint.

When the door is pulled open, Akaashi stands before Kuroo adorning a pair of faded gray joggers, a navy blue long-sleeved shirt, and his hair, longer now than it was when they were in high school, is pushed back from his eyes with the help of a white headband. He’s not wearing the glasses he had been the past two times they had spent together, and without them the deep blue of Akaashi’s widened eyes are left unobscured. _Beautiful_.

Kuroo realizes he’s still holding his breath up until he notices the quizzical look on Akaashi’s face at which he bites down on his tongue not to mirror.

“I thought we had agreed on meeting at noon, Kuroo-san” Akaashi mutters but takes a step anyway, pulling the door open further with him and ushering Kuroo inside.

Not wanting to seem too hasty in his entrance, but wanting out of the cold, Kuroo steps in and bows his head in Akaashi’s direction indicating his thanks before raising his wrist to check his watch.

_11:30._

_Shit, how did that happen…_

“Ah, sorry,” Kuroo replies almost sheepishly, the arm he had already raised to check the time continues to reach up to rub the back of his neck in meek embarrassment. “I don’t know what happened there. I guess I got a little ahead of myself and forgot to check and thought it was later than it actually was.”

As his arm lowers back to his side, he notices the quick glance Akaashi gives towards the bag in Kuroo’s opposite hand. Kuroo’s eyes light up as he extends the hand out towards Akaashi with a smile.

“Hopefully this makes up for the inconvenience, and also as thanks for inviting me over,” he says as Akaashi takes it.

Their fingers lightly brush together as the bag is exchanged from one hand to the other, and Akaashi’s hand recoils back quickly once it feels just how cold Kuroo’s is.

“Your hands are freezing, Kuroo-san, come inside and warm them up. You really shouldn’t underestimate the month of January like that. Even your jacket looks far too light to have been walking around in. Come on,” Akaashi waves over his shoulder as he walks further into his apartment.

Kuroo slips his shoes off at the entrance and follows behind, slipping his jacket from his shoulders and folding it over his arm as he glances around the walls of the hallway they’re walking through, the small kitchen they pass by, and finally the small living area where Kuroo figures Akaashi had been working out when Kuroo arrived earlier than expected.

“I apologize for the mess,” Akaashi says as he sets the bag of onigiri down on a nearby kotatsu table and moves to pick up some displaced weights and resistance bands from the floor, setting them against the far wall near his corner television stand.

He then confirms that he had in fact been working out, and was just about to wash up when Kuroo knocked.

Feeling guilty, Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek, and for once he’s speechless. The nerves that had been eating away at him since Monday when they crossed paths have successfully taken hold of him and squeezed his vocal cords in their grasp.

Akaashi picks up on the change in Kuroo’s demeanor and lets out a sigh as he toes a rogue resistance band into the pile with the others.

“I still appreciate you coming all this way though, Kuroo-san,” and it’s accompanied with a gentle, barely-there smile that confirms his sincerity. “However, allow me to finish washing up before we start. Please make yourself at home in the meantime. There’s hot water in the kitchen for tea if you’d like, help yourself. Feel free to put the TV on and warm up under the table. I shouldn’t be too long.”

With that, Akaashi wanders back down the hall and through a door, out of Kuroo’s line of sight.

Kuroo, realizing he’s been silent for the past few minutes, Akaashi having filled said silence with talk of his own, raises his hands to his face and quietly groans into his palms. He can feel cottonmouth developing as his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, so he decides to try and counter it with some tea.

He first bypasses the kitchen in order to hang his jacket up on the small wall rack by Akaashi’s front door. Of the four hooks, one is left available so Kuroo lifts his jacket to hang from it. As he brushes it down, he notices a ball cap hanging beside it embroidered with the logo for the MSBY Black Jackals. He snickers quietly as he pulls it down and looks it over in his hands. Beneath the brim Kuroo finds some writing. It’s upside down, so he flips the hat around to read what it says.

_Just a normal ace ☆ - BK_

It’s signed by Bokuto, Kuroo realizes, and he can’t help the joyous grin that stretches across his face as he replaces the hat on it’s respective hook and moves back in the direction of the kitchen.

For as long as he’s known Bokuto, Kuroo can’t help but wonder what it is that drew Akaashi to him, and with that, Bokuto to Akaashi. They always seemed like polar opposites, and well… he thinks perhaps there is some truth behind the theory that opposites attract. The two had been nearly inseparable. Wherever Akaashi was, Bokuto was trailing not far behind, and vice versa. If you needed one or the other, all you’d need to do is find either and _voilà_ , you’d end up with both of them.

As Kuroo picks up a mug near Akaashi’s kettle and paws through an assortment of teas to choose from, he can’t help but smile at wondering if that’s how people picture him and Kozume. Attached so close at the hip that they’re practically conjoined. Given how long they’ve known each other and been together, he wouldn’t be surprised.

With a mug now filled to the brim with green tea, Kuroo heads into the living area where he sets his tea down atop the table and plops down to wiggle his legs beneath the attached blanket.

Akaashi’s kotatsu isn’t anywhere as big or as nice as Kozume’s, but it still provides the sweet, _sweet_ warmth that his legs so desperately crave. Bringing his mug close to his mouth, he blows at the steam that rises and tickles his upper lip. Taking a sip, his nose scrunches at how hot it is. He sets it back down on the table top and instead allows it’s contents to warm his palms and fingers as he waits for it to cool down some.

He sits there for a few seconds, taking in the memorabilia that’s scattered around the small room. There are two photographs hung on the wall beside the television. One with the Fukurodani team as Kuroo last remembered it, Bokuto beaming at the camera from where he sat beside their coach in the front row, and Akaashi on his other side. Various other members that made up the team, some of which Kuroo remembers (like Washio, Konoha, Sarukui, and Komi), are seated beside Akaashi and standing behind the seated front row. 

The second photograph mirrors the first in terms of the seated-standing arrangement, but something’s missing. That something is Bokuto and the other third years Kuroo had grown to become acquaintances with over his time playing volleyball. In Bokuto’s place, however, sits Akaashi in his third year donning the number four jersey with a somber look on his face.

Not wanting to miss out on a rare opportunity, Kuroo drags his legs back out from beneath the table and stumbles over to the wall where he straightens up and admires the picture in its entirety. Now this close, he can make out the hint of a smile Akaashi has in the first photograph where Bokuto’s residual enthusiasm appears to be spilling over into Akaashi’s persona, altering it just enough to make him look like he’s enjoying himself. In the second photograph, Akaashi’s lips are drawn into a tight line and his eyes are more hooded. He doesn’t look like he’s _not_ enjoying himself necessarily, but he definitely looks less cheery without his constant ray of sunshine by his side. He looks more professional. Like volleyball to him here is more of a job than something he enjoys.

Kuroo figures it must have been hard for Akaashi, watching everyone he played with and grew to know as not only teammates, but _friends_ , leave him all at once. Thankfully when he left with Yaku and Kai, Kozume still had not only Yamamoto, who stepped up and made an excellent captain during their final year, and Fukunaga by his side, but Shibayama, Lev, and Inuoka, too.

_Akaashi must have had to develop a new team practically from the ground up without a real ace to take Bokuto’s place..._

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice those while you were here,” Akaashi’s voice is gentle from behind Kuroo, but it’s suddenness still startles him enough where he jumps and turns to look over his shoulder.

Akaashi is now sporting a pair of dark jeans and a cream-colored, slightly oversized sweater, the arms of which are just long enough that they drape down and cover most of his hands to mid-knuckle. His hair is slightly dampened, and a towel is draped around his shoulders and up over the back of his head to catch the few droplets of water that careen off his curls. He’s wearing his glasses this time, Kuroo notices, and he _also_ notices just how god-damned attractive he looks in them.

Kuroo’s heart squeezes a little as he looks back towards the photograph and nods, forcing a chuckle though it sounds like it comes out as more of a wheeze due to his throat constricting with the butterflies that have fluttered up from his stomach.

Akaashi walks over towards him, using the towel to ruffle his hair free of any remaining water droplets before allowing it to fall back around his shoulders.

“Third year was an… interesting time for me. Bokuto-san made sure to come to as many games as he could when his schedule would allow, and he showed up to one or two of our practices… and some of the other previous third years would come around now and again to help out or cheer us on, give me advice when I needed it. But it was mostly me trying to fill in Bokuto’s shoes. He left a rather looming shadow in his wake, it was nearly impossible for me to crawl out of it,” Akaashi sighs and shakes his head. “I did my best though, but Fukurodani definitely wasn’t the same without him”

“Can’t say I’m surprised to hear that,” Kuroo adds and shifts his gaze back towards the photograph on the wall and stands side-by-side with Akaashi for a few fleeting seconds. “He definitely had a way about him when it came to bringing out the best competitiveness in people, both on your side of the court and the opposite. That sort of spirit seems like it would be hard to harbor for yourself in just a few short months.”

“He was always, and still is, only thinking about volleyball. I, on the other hand, was more focused on doing what I could to fill his void.”

Before Kuroo can respond, Akaashi turns and pads over to the table where he sits down and shuffles his crossed legs beneath the blanket. His back is to Kuroo, and Kuroo can easily tell how stiff Akaashi’s shoulders are after the conversation that just transpired.

Not wanting to wind him up so tight that he snaps, Kuroo decides to instead sit across from Akaashi at the table where his tea waits, and lifts the mug to try and take a sip again. It’s cooled down since he had gotten up, and he takes a long swig and swallows before lowering it from his lips. He watches as Akaashi reaches across the table for the bag he had previously placed there, and goes to open it up.

“You know you didn’t have to bring anything, Kuroo-san. Though I am curious as to what it is,” Akaashi confesses as he reaches in and pulls out one of the neatly wrapped cat-shaped onigiri. His breath hitches and his eyes light up, but he hopes the glint in them is obscured behind the reflection of his glasses.

“I stopped by this place on my way over here from the station. I remember how many you used to eat during camp, and like I said it’s thanks for inviting me over. Also for the inconvenience of showing up earlier than expected,” he says with a laugh and leans his elbow onto the table so he can rest his chin in the palm of his finally warmed up hand. “They’re shaped like cats, too. Just because I still needed to be at least a little bit conceited about it,” he follows up with a wink and another brief laugh that he quickly stiffles with a sip of his tea.

“I’m surprised you’d remember such a mundane detail, Kuroo-san… But thank you, I appreciate the gesture,” Akaashi responds as he unwraps one of the little kittens and raises it to his mouth to take a bite. As he chews, he reaches into the bag and slides another one of the rice balls across the table for Kuroo to enjoy as well.

They eat them in relative silence. Kuroo’s eyes mindlessly wander around to a few of the remaining items littered around Akaashi’s living area. Beneath the television on the shelves that make up the corner stand are an assortment of books ranging from volleyball related to literature studies, a volume or two of random manga, and a few actual novels that Kuroo can’t read the names of. 

On the floor beside the television is a potted plant that reaches just above the height of the television itself. At first he can’t tell whether it’s real or fake, but once he spots the small watering can set beside it, he determines that it is, in fact, real… though he can’t tell _what_ kind of plant it is. The various pieces of workout equipment Akaashi had been using remain where he left them on the opposite side of the stand. 

A small bookcase is set a few feet away from the plant that’s littered with more books, little trinkets, a Jackasuke mascot plush, and a few medals of which Kuroo assumes to be from his time at Fukurodani. A worn volleyball rests on the floor beside the shelving, and noticing it causes Kuroo to smile.

Aside from the two photographs Kuroo had previously inspected, there are a couple posters hung up around the room, more for aesthetic than hobby, Kuroo assumes.

The room itself is small, and despite how little it holds, it still feels welcoming. It feels comforting. 

It feels like Akaashi.

Kuroo brings his gaze back to the table where some papers are scattered about: mail, syllabi, other junk Akaashi hadn’t gotten around to recycling yet. His hand reaches out and brushes aside a takeout menu and picks up a pamphlet with the schedule for the current V. League season. He flips through it briefly, taking note of how this, too, is also signed exuberantly by none other than Bokuto Kotaro. Kuroo withholds his own snort as he folds it back up and sets it down.

Raising his mug to his lips to finish off his tea, his gaze meets Akaashi’s who is watching him with chubby-bunny, rice-filled cheeks. He’s chewing slowly, and when he notices Kuroo staring back, he blinks a couple of times and turns to look down at the rice ball in his hands.

One of Kuroo’s brows raises in confusion as he unwraps his own snack and takes a bite.

“What was that look for?” he asks, voice muffled around the rice taking over his mouth.

Akaashi hums and wipes a grain of rice from his own cheek, licking it off his thumb with a shrug.

“It’s the first time you’re seeing my apartment, and it’s only the third time I’ve seen _you_ in years. I was just watching your face to see your reaction is all,” Akaashi ends solemnly and crinkles up his empty wrapper, squeezing it tightly in his fist.

Kuroo mimics Akaashi’s hum with one of his own, though he takes another bite of his onigiri, chews it and swallows before responding.

“It’s about what I expected,” he says after a moment, nodding in confirmation. “It’s minimalistic. If you threw me in here not knowing it was your place and asked me to tell whether it was yours or Bokuto’s. I could tell it was yours, easy-peasy.”

Akaashi snorts as he reaches out and drops his wrapper into the carry-out bag, replacing it with another onigiri which he unwraps and immediately bites into. “I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult,” he says between bites as his gaze finally lifts to match Kuroo’s once again.

“Oh, a compliment _for sure_. We both know how disorganized Bokuto is. I bet you can’t even see the floor in his apartment,” Kuroo says and tosses his empty wrapper into the bag with the other.

“You have so little faith in him, Kuroo-san. _Yes_ , he may be disorganized beyond belief, but with confidence I can tell you that he _at least_ knows he has a floor. His _table tops_ , however… they’re a different story.” Akaashi finishes with a snicker that he hides behind the back of his hand as he chews and swallows the remaining rice in his mouth.

“Oho?” Kuroo drawls in mild excitement. “One of these days maybe I’ll have to take a trip out to Osaka just to see how right you are. Better start saving up now so I can surprise raid his room.”

Akaashi is rather quiet this time in response to that, and Kuroo’s brow furrows in contemplation. No time at all passes before Akaashi speaks up, his voice softer, _gentler_ this time.

“You could just video call him again, Kuroo-san. He called me back Monday night before I fell asleep to tell me how excited he was to have seen you and that he both missed you and hopes to hear from you more.”

Kuroo scoffs and crosses his arms tight over his chest, turning his face away from Akaashi in an effort to conceal the damned blush that’s threatening to expose his soft-hearted interior. When he hears Akaashi chuckle though, he drops his arms back atop the table and shakes his head.

“We’ve been texting at least the past few days, so there’s that,” Kuroo says and actually moves to pull his phone from his pocket and notices he has an unread message from Bokuto from within the past half hour.

“I know,” Akaashi admits as he drops his second empty wrapper into the bag, “both Bokuto-san and Kozume have been keeping me up to date with how giddy you are to be back in touch with your _bro_ ,” he emphasizes the final word in a way to show he picked the term up from both Bokuto referring to Kuroo as his bro, and Kozume sarcastically referring to the two of them in that way as well.

Kuroo rolls his eyes and waves the comment aside as he unlocks his phone and reads Bokuto’s message. It’s nothing of dire importance, just him talking about some fight Miya Atsumu almost started with Sakusa Kiyoomi. How Bokuto hasn’t found himself dead yet given who his teammates are and his own personality is beyond Kuroo.

As he closes the app window and swipes the screen over, his eyes lock onto the Instagram icon, and he’s reminded of why he’s here to begin with.

“Sooo,” he starts, shifting under the table so his outer thigh is pressed up against one of it’s legs, “how about we get to work on why you invited me over in the first place.”

He pats the empty space next to where he sits and turns his phone so Akaashi can see his screen and the open Instagram feed that covers it.

Kuroo wears a shit-eating grin as Akaashi rolls his eyes and pushes himself up to stand. He picks up the trash from the table, and pulls the remaining onigiri from the bag to set in front of Kuroo at which the recipient shakes his head and pushes it away and back into Akaashi’s hand.

“They were for you, so you can have the last one,” Kuroo says, and before Akaashi can retaliate, Kuroo shoos him away.

With another eyeroll, Akaashi heads into the kitchen where he disposes of the trash, stores the last onigiri in the fridge, and heads into where Kuroo assumes is his bedroom, emerging a moment later with his phone in hand.

Instead of seating himself back where he was originally, Akaashi shuffles into the spot beside Kuroo. The width of the table’s legs isn’t enough for both of them to sit with space between them, so they sit with their outer legs touching, and the opposites pressed against the table… Though neither seem to mind.

Akaashi unlocks his phone and drops it atop the table once he shows that he already has the app downloaded on his home screen.

“Alright, look at you!” Kuroo celebrates with mock excitement, “You’ve already beaten me to step one. You’re gonna be a pro at this, I already know it.”

“Remember what I said about behaving yourself, Kuroo-san. Please don’t make me regret inviting you here,” Akaashi says with a sigh and clicks the icon, opening the app to the main login screen.

Without any direction from Kuroo, he then hits the _Sign Up_ button, immediately inputs his email, his name… He hesitates briefly before picking his phone up at an angle to type in a password. This draws a laugh from Kuroo to which Akaashi responds with a jab to the ribs with his elbow. Kuroo sputters in feign hurt as Akaashi hums in contentment. He inputs his birthday, and then he comes to a halt when it comes time to create a username.

Kuroo, who had been watching silently, pipes up after a few seconds. “All confident up until this part, huh?” he jokes and nudges Akaashi’s foot with his own in a teasing manner as both of their legs are long enough that their feet are beside one another beneath the table. Kuroo’s foot lingers against Akaashi’s for longer than he’d normally allow, and he swallows hotly before pulling it back into its upright position. 

Two hearts are racing side-by-side, though neither are aware of the other experiencing the same.

Akaashi had made no move to pull his foot away during it, and also seemed to not have anything to say on the matter, so Kuroo doesn’t push his luck. What Akaashi does comment on, however, is: “What’s your username, Kuroo-san?”

“Huh? Oh, uh...” Kuroo stutters, slightly taken aback. He opens his own page and sets his phone down so Akaashi can see and points to the top of the screen where it says _masturoof1_.

Akaashi looks at him with brows furrowed in complete bewilderment. Before he can even ask what the hell that means, Kuroo is already explaining. 

“Hey, hey, wipe that look off your face. It’s a running joke. Remember how shortie was Bokuto’s ‘disciple’ or whatever he liked to call him. Well, it was kind of like that for Lev, Tsukishima, and I. Those two both wore the number eleven during their first year, right? And I was number one. So it was like I was the master of one.” 

Kuroo looks at Akaashi, waiting for him to go along with what he’s saying, but when he notices how Akaashi only looks more confused than he did to start, he lets out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, Kenma didn’t really get it either. Anyway, it’s supposed to be that but tied with a mixture of my given or family name. However you wanna look at it, works either way.” 

He lets out a quiet _ba-dum-tss_ , and Akaashi is silent for a moment before piping up. 

“So, how is it a running joke if you’re the only one that understands it?” Akaashi asks, and Kuroo groans. 

“Kick me while I’m already down, why don’t you,” is Kuroo’s muttered response as he pulls his phone back so it’s in front of him and scrolls through his feed.

After a minute or so of silence, Kuroo peeks over from the corner of his eye and notices that Akaashi still hasn’t typed anything into the field, and that his hands are wringing themselves in his lap.

It’s the same as Kuroo noticed the other night at the bar, and once again he figures it best not to draw any unnecessary attention to the behavior. He instead soothes his voice and slowly reaches out so Akaashi can register that he’s moving from his peripheral into his line of sight without startling him.

“You don’t have to give it too much thought,” he says while wrapping his fingers around Akaashi’s phone. Before he picks it up, however, he issues a quiet _May I?_ to which Akaashi nods his head and follows as Kuroo brings it back towards him. “You could make it something as simple as your name. Maybe something like ‘akaashi.keiji’ or somethi- oh, looks like someone already beat us to that, nevermind. What about ‘keiji.aka-’ nope, beat us there, too. Hmm,” he thinks it over, mind wandering to the two photographs hanging on the wall. It inspires him to try _akaashi.keiji.5_ to which the red ‘X’ indicating a taken username is replaced with a green checkmark. He perks up and shows the screen to Akaashi for validation, which he receives with a nod of the head and a ‘yeah, that’s fine.’

“Alright then, now, for your bio,” Kuroo says as he begins typing, emphasizing every word as it’s being written out. “ _MSBY. Black. Jackal. Number(#)12. Biggest fan_. I think that’s all the world needs to know about ya, yeah?” he says with a laugh and turns so Akaashi can read the screen.

Kuroo is expecting another eyeroll or any sort of retort, but when none come, his gaze lifts from where he’s looking at the phone in his hand to Akaashi’s face and notices that he actually looks like he’s thinking it over.

“I think Bokuto-san would get a kick out of it, don’t you,” he finally says before meeting Kuroo’s gaze.

 _Oh, he’s serious,_ Kuroo thinks and then laughs with a nod of the head.

“Well, alright then Mr. Number-One-Fan, now we just need your profile picture. Do you have any you’d like to use already? Or you could take a new one, or I could take some for you. I know for a fact you already have some pretty good ones on that dating profile of yours-- _ow!_ ”

That earns Kuroo another jab with Akaashi’s elbow as Akaashi reaches out and takes his phone back. He clicks the image icon to open his photo gallery and scrolls through some of the aforementioned selfies he had used that Kuroo had seen. 

A light dusting of red now covers Akaashi’s cheeks and tints his ears that Kuroo also notices as Akaashi makes his selection and crops it down to size.

It’s the first photo he had added on his profile, the one that popped up when Kuroo had gone _completely_ out of his way to try and match with him. Kuroo gives it a hum of approval and a thumbs up. “Yeah, I’m a fan of that one as well,” _but for real, though. You look really good there…_

“Thank you,” Akaashi says as he confirms all his information and his new Instagram profile is finished setting up. “Bokuto-san helped me take it when I was setting up my profile. He actually set up the entire thing himself pretty much, pictures and all.”

“Oh, he did?” Kuroo questions for confirmation, at which Akaashi nods and sets his phone back down, now staring at his empty profile page.

 _Ah_.

Kuroo feels his cottonmouth coming back, and he tries to swallow quickly, hoping the remaining saliva will wet his palette enough to keep his mouth from completely drying up.

_So Bokuto was behind it all… Wonder how telling him like Kenma suggested is gonna go hearing that..._

Before he can find himself falling down that rabbit hole of thoughts though, he’s brought back when he hears Akaashi asking what he thinks he should do first.

Kuroo shakes the remaining intrusive thoughts from his head and instead replaces his elbow on the table so he can rest his chin in it while he watches.

“How about you add a picture or two, and then I can help you find some people you might know to follow?”

Akaashi nods and turns to face his phone, but it’s not long before he’s looking back at Kuroo with a raised brow.

“May I use that photo you took of us the other day?” he asks genuinely, no trace of sarcasm as far as Kuroo can tell, and it’s enough that Kuroo’s heart nearly bursts from his chest to land on the table in front of Akaashi.

“I- Ah, yeah! That’s fine! I think that would make for a good first post. That way when you start following people they know it’s _you_. If you want, you can add me as a friend and tag me in the photo for authenticity, y’know. I’ll try my best not to hog all your spotlight with my good looks, though.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t think you’d be stealing the spotlight anytime soon,” Akaashi’s voice is flat as he doesn’t even bother to look at Kuroo, and Kuroo _gasps_ at the brutality of it. An absolute K.O. Not only would Kozume be proud of Kuroo for using fighting game terminology, but he’d be even prouder of Akaashi for knocking Kuroo from his pedestal.

It’s then that Kuroo feels Akaashi’s foot nudge against his as he chuckles, much like Kuroo had done not too long ago. However, this time, Akaashi doesn’t move to shift his away. It lingers for far longer than Kuroo’s had, and Kuroo doesn’t make any effort to move his own away either.

They sit in silence, socked toes nudged against one another as Akaashi types in Kuroo’s username to find his profile and sends him a follow request, to which Kuroo accepts and adds him back. 

Kuroo suggests Akaashi lock his account for privacy reasons, whether it be keeping it away from the eyes of school or potential future employers, _not that I think you’ll post anything risqué or bad, but just to be safe._ Akaashi does exactly that and then follows up by uploading the selfie Kuroo had taken of them just a few days prior. 

When Akaashi doesn’t know what to put as the caption, Kuroo holds his hand out and Akaashi places his phone in the open palm. Only a second later does Kuroo hand it back, and Akaashi shakes his head at the cat and owl emojis that Kuroo had chosen. Fully expecting him to change it, he notices the upward curve of Akaashi’s lip as he instead adds a tag with Kuroo’s name and sends the post out into the world of social media.

A second later, Kuroo’s phone pings with a notification telling him he was tagged in a post. He immediately opens the app and double taps the photo, watching his username pop up below the image with a heart as well as the notification that pops up on Akaashi’s phone telling him it was liked.

Before Kuroo can ask if he’d like to find his old friends to follow, Akaashi is already asking, “Can you help me find Bokuto-san’s profile now?”

Kuroo blinks, astonished. “Yeah, of course. Here’s his account,” he says while opening Bokuto’s profile to show Akaashi. 

When Akaashi opens the page on his own phone, his thumb hovers over the bright blue _Follow_ button, faltering for a brief moment before pressing it. 

“It’s spectacular to see how many people have grown to know of and appreciate Bokuto-san,” Akaashi muses, referencing the high number of followers he has marked beside his picture, which itself is emblazoned with a colorful ring.

“You should click that,” Kuroo says, indicating the encircled profile picture. And so Akaashi does, and he startles a little when Bokuto’s voice echoes out in his apartment.

“ _Hey, hey, hey!”_ it starts, and Akaashi is quick to lower the volume on his phone, at which Kuroo laughs. 

Bokuto is laughing into the camera, his surroundings are bouncing around in the background, indicating that he’s walking somewhere, yet still making time to put out this video.

“ _I know classes are starting back up again soon, and I know how stressful a time this can be for everyone,”_ Bokuto continues, and waves to someone off camera. “ _I just wanted to say I’m proud of each and everyone one of you that’s attending school right now. Schoolwork was never my strongest point, but keep working hard so you can achieve everything you want later on in life. Like me!_ ” he says with pride and points his thumb into his own chest. “ _I was lucky to have the friends I did before I got to where I am, but beyond them I still worked hard on my own to better myself and here I am!”_ As Bokuto says this, he extends his arm outwards to show that he’s walking away from the gym where the Jackals practice. “ _Now I know I say this a lot, but make sure you’re always_ thinking about what’s fun, not what’s easy _. And remember,_ nothing is impossible, it’s just hard.”

At that, Miya Atsumu walks up behind Bokuto and slings an arm around his shoulders, tongue sticking out with a cocked brow. Bokuto laughs and makes some sort of offhand comment that Akaashi doesn’t quite catch because he’s too distracted by the way his heart swells with adoration for his best friend. The two on screen raise their hands, fingers curled in a _gao-gao_ pose. And with that, the video ends.

“He’s a really good dude,” Kuroo murmurs, though he’s been watching Akaashi’s expression for the last minute or so instead of the actual video; Akaashi, whose eyes are glossed over due to his absolute delight.

“He cheers for them the way they all cheer for him,” Akaashi considers softly after a moment of quiet as the video ends and takes him back to Bokuto’s main page.

Upon doing so, the page refreshes with a new list of suggested users Akaashi may know below Bokuto’s icon. 

One of the first profiles he recognizes is that which belongs to _Kodzuken_. Kuroo takes it upon himself to open the page and hit the follow button for Akaashi before he can retaliate, and not too long after, he’s surprised with a notification indicating Kozume had followed him back.

“That was fast.”

“I definitely told him what I was coming over to help you with, so he said he’d be waiting ‘in the shadows,’” Kuroo confesses and leans in closer to Akaashi to better see his screen. Their shoulders bump and their arms press together, but Akaashi doesn’t make any move to lean away. In fact, Kuroo thinks he feels Akaashi leaning back into him, but tells himself he’s imagining it and instead turns his attention back to Kozume’s Instagram where Akaashi is scrolling.

“Kozume has… a lot more followers than both Bokuto-san and of what I was expecting,” Akaashi admits as he scrolls through Kozume’s feed.

There are pictures of his gaming setup, food, random cats, friends. Akaashi opens one photo in particular that caught his eye and turns his screen towards Kuroo.

“What’s this, Kuroo-san?” he asks, referring to a photo of Kozume and Kuroo wearing colorful plush cat-ear headbands, and their faces covered in green face masks. Kuroo is laughing while Kozume wears his signature deadpan expression.

“Oh, _that_. That was one of his lower-tier stream incentives for a charity stream he did last year. I’m just the dumbass that decides to go along with them to make sure he follows through with them and doesn’t chicken out.”

“I have no idea what half those words you just said are.”

Kuroo laughs at Akaashi’s confession and reaches over to swipe from the first photo to the second where a list with accompanying monetary values are displayed.

“Alright, so we were raising money alongside some of his other well-known online gamer friends for this charity,” Kuroo explains. “Kenma’s fans would donate and at each little milestone they reached, there would be something Kenma would do to incentivize them to _keep_ donating. So the picture you saw was what we had to do once they raised one hundred thousand yen in donations. Some people donated _a lot_ to be able to play one-on-one with gamer king _Kodzuken_ himself. It’s listed somewhere, but with the help of his other friends, we raised somewhere around twenty million yen if I’m remembering correctly. The fans _really_ wanted a video series of him baking different things, so they kept going until they got it.”

Kuroo taps the back button on the screen and scrolls up to open one of the photos of a pie. “Naturally, given how much he loves apple pie, that was the first thing he decided to try. It came out pretty good, I have to admit. I was the official taste tester.”

He then hands the phone back to Akaashi, who continues looking through the overabundance of Kozume’s photos. “That’s very admirable, Kuroo-san. I’m impressed.”

“Akaashi, once again you forget I’ve always been nice.”

Akaashi snorts an ‘ _okay, yeah, sure_ ’ before heading back to his main feed where Kozume’s photos now alternate with Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s.

Before the two can work on finding more people to make aware of Akaashi’s sudden online presence, his screen is replaced with the open front camera as he’s receiving an incoming video call from Bokuto.

Given how close they are, when Akaashi answers the call, Bokuto sees the two of them seated side-by-side in frame and the ‘hey!’ he was about to shout catches in his throat. He’s caught stuttering briefly before he composes himself and beams into the camera.

“Hello, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi giggles behind his hand as Kuroo shoots a pair of finger guns.

“Hey! What’re you two up to?” Bokuto asks as he rolls over on his bed so he can rest his chin on his pillow.

“I was helping your boy here become accustomed to the ways of social media. You should check your new Instagram followers,” Kuroo butts in, and Bokuto coos in curiosity at the statement. 

The pair are met with a close up of Bokuto’s forehead and eyes as he works on navigating from the video screen to Instagram, where he gasps in delight upon finding Akaashi’s name and opening his page.

Akaashi receives his own notification a breath later when Bokuto requests to follow him, prompting Akaashi to quickly swap apps and accept. Once he does, Bokuto refreshes the page and laughs jubilantly when his bio loads.

“You’re my number one fan, huh?” he asks, finally readjusting his camera so his entire face is in frame. There’s a dopey grin twisting his lips that earns a smile from Akaashi in return.

“That was also Kuroo-san’s doing,” Akaashi points out, “Though I figured you'd enjoy it all the same, so I allowed it.”

Kuroo gives a thumbs up and Bokuto rolls his eyes back and dramatically sighs out a ‘ _my hero,_ ’ before laughing once more.

“So anyway,” he interjects, excitement lacing his voice. “It makes it easier for me knowing you two are together!”

Kuroo and Akaashi exchange a quick glance before Bokuto continues.

“I’ll be back in Tokyo in two weeks, and I was going to see if either or both of you were free to hang out over the weekend. I was going to message you once I got done calling Akaashi, Kuroo, but here you are! Perfect! Gives me more time to eat lunch before heading off to practice.”

Akaashi can practically see Bokuto’s metaphorical dog ears perk up with excitement and his tail wag with joy as he proposes the idea.

“Well, obviously I’d be down for that!” Kuroo exclaims before Akaashi can even open his mouth. “It’s been ages since we last wreaked havoc in Tokyo, of course I’m going to make time to see my best bro.”

Bokuto chirps with excitement before turning his expectant gaze to Akaashi who sighs through a smile and nods his head.

“Of course I’ll be there as well, Bokuto-san. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Nothing yet!” Bokuto’s visibly vibrating with excitement now, and Akaashi finds it quite endearing. “I just wanted to throw the idea out there first. I know how busy you both are going to be soon, so I wanted to give you plenty of time to think about it. But if you’re both down for it, then great! I’ll try and think of something between now and then! I’m gonna go eat now, but good job today Kuroo,” Bokuto finishes with a salute, which Kuroo responds to with one of his own.

They wave and say their goodbyes and Bokuto ends the call, returning them to the main feed of Akaashi’s new Instagram account. A second later, a small heart pops up at the bottom of the screen, indicating that Bokuto had liked Akaashi’s post. Another second later, and there’s a comment full of a bunch of exclamation points and a smiling emoticon.

Kuroo chuckles and spins his own phone in his hand before making to stand from the table.

“Well,” he starts, groaning as his knees pop as he straightens up, “I came, I saw, I conquered today. I better head back now before I overstay my welcome-”

Akaashi raises his deadpan gaze towards Kuroo who in turn raises both hands to ward off the look.

“That, and I promised Kenma I’d stop by before heading home to help him get one of his new monitors mounted. Even with a step stool, the wee kitten’s just a little _too_ short to reach on his own, so he enlisted me.”

Standing as well, Akaashi nods his head and picks up Kuroo’s used mug and carries it into the kitchen where Kuroo follows.

“Thank you for coming out today, Kuroo-san. I appreciate it.”

Akaashi sees him to the front door where Kuroo slips on his jacket and shoes.

“No problem! It’s always nice to see what’s going on in a friend’s life. Make sure you keep posting stuff, though I’m sure Bokuto will get on you plenty for that,” Kuroo laughs and turns to the door.

Hand on the knob, he pauses before turning back to Akaashi.

“Say, are you doing anything next weekend?” he asks, hands finding themselves in his jacket pocket where he’s reminded of the gloves he still needs to return.

Akaashi raises a brow, ponders a moment, but shakes his head. “Nothing that I’m aware of at the moment.”

“Well, if you’re down for it, would you want to come over to my apartment then? I think it’s only fair that you know where I live in exchange for allowing me to come over. You can bring any work you may have and we can just study in silence if you want. Eat food, watch a movie? I can show you all the dumb little cat trinkets I’ve collected over the years that people from high school just kept giving me, and continued to give me even after I graduated.”

Kuroo shifts his weight from one foot to the other as Akaashi studies him, his gaze causing him to sweat despite how cold it is standing beside the front door.

Another moment passes before Akaashi’s gaze softens and he nods his head. “I think that’s only fair as well, but only if you allow me to provide the food this time since you already provided today.”

Kuroo’s ears perk up as he nods his head, “Yeah, sounds like a plan! I’ll message you later about it then and where I live so you have it. Oh! And-” he pulls both gloves from his pockets, folds them atop one another, and holds them out. “Before I forget, thanks for lending these to me the other day.”

Akaashi looks back and forth between the gloves being presented to them, and Kuroo’s face a few times before the neutral line on his lips curves downwards into a frown and he sighs.

“Kuroo-san, you had those the entire time and didn’t think to wear them on your way here?”

Before Kuroo can form a rebuttal, Akaashi pushes his hand away and crosses his arms.

“Put them on before you leave so your fingers don’t freeze off this time. And next time, don’t be so idiotic. I have another pair so please keep yourself warm on your way home. Once again, your jacket is far too light so I’d feel somewhat responsible knowing you got sick coming out here.”

From up on the wall rack, Akaashi pulls down a light blue scarf that he holds out to Kuroo. When it’s not immediately taken, Akaashi sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Please don’t make me put it on you myself. Take it, please.”

Kuroo waggles an eyebrow in a provoking manner. “What if I want you to- _okay, okay!_ ” Kuroo sputters as the scarf is slapped against his chest and he catches it as Akaashi lets it go. He gives a quiet thanks as he wraps it around his neck and tucks the ends behind his zipper.

“I’ll come collect it along with my gloves next weekend,” Akaashi states matter-of-factly, stepping behind Kuroo so he can open the door for him. “Take better care of yourself, Kuroo-san. You’re smarter than that. I know you are.”

With one last farewell and a bow of the head, Kuroo steps out into the chilly January air and listens as the door clicks closed behind him.

Seconds pass, and it’s enough time for him to breathe in through his nose and out his mouth, hoping to calm his jitters. On the inhale though, Akaashi’s scent wafts up through his nostrils from where it lingers on his scarf, and that’s enough to open the floodgates Kuroo had meticulously kept closed the entire time they were together. A rush of blood prickles his ears and cheeks, painting them red. At least now that he’s outside, he can blame it on the cold as he shoves his gloved hands into his pockets and makes his way towards the station to head towards Kozume’s home.

Kozume spares no mercy once Kuroo eventually shows up half an hour later donning not only Akaashi’s gloves, but scarf as well, making sure to give both garments a pointed look before allowing his best friend inside.

Kuroo huffs as he removes them along with his jacket, and sets to work helping set up Kozume’s monitor in a welcomed silence.

***

When Kuroo finally gets home after Kozume had treated him to dinner for his help, he flops onto his bed and lays with his face pressed into his pillow for a solid minute.

After a respectable amount of time has passed at which Kuroo deems he can finally lift his head, he rolls over and lifts his phone to his face.

He responds to a message from Bokuto about meeting up in a couple weeks, and then opens up Instagram. As the page loads, he likes the post Kozume has made since his departure showing off his new setup, and leaves a comment praising his own work that garners the attention of Kozume’s fans. While said comment begins racking up its own likes and responses, Kuroo instead decides to open up Akaashi’s profile since it’s still fresh at the top of his notification screen.

His gaze studies the screen for a moment, Akaashi hasn’t posted anything new since Kuroo left, not that he’s surprised. However, when Kuroo opens the post they had made together, he notices the description has since been edited. It now reads _cat-ching up with an owl-d friend_ , accompanied by the same cat and owl emojis from before.

If that already weren’t enough to make him blush and mumble under his breath, then Kozume simply commenting the word ‘ _cute_ ’ beneath it is.

 _He’s testing me,_ Kuroo thinks as he double taps Kozume’s comment and locks his phone.

He closes his eyes and Akaashi’s face flashes across the back of his eyelids.

 _They’re both testing me_ , he corrects and presses his palms against his eyes with a groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience considering it's been, oops, almost a month since I posted the last chapter. Though I wasn't able to get around to responding to the latest comments, I have read and appreciate that some of you have taken the time to leave them!
> 
> This chapter was difficult for me to write for some reason, at least the opening section. That alone took the majority of the past three weeks, and I'm still not fully satisfied with it, but alas. It is what it is. And then since last night alone I cranked out the remaining ~10K words like they were nothing. Easy-peasy, as Kuroo said.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take me as long, and if it does I apologize well in advance. I finished my first monthly class and am about to start my next today, so I'm only a little nervous about it.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your comments, kudos, subs, and hits! I hope you're enjoying this slow-budding relationship as much as I am!
> 
> Feel free to follow or reach out to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt/)! I'd love to hear from you! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _♪ — one day we'll reach to emotions unexplored, unprecedented; we'll high-five love we've yet to discover and give a kiss to time; the five dimensions keeps on teasing me, but I will keep on looking at you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stretched the truth a little to have the movie they watch released sooner than it would have been in 2017, I hope that’s not too much of a bother for anyone! I know sometimes little incorrect factoids like that annoy me, but once I realized the timelines were close enough to matching up between where this story takes place and the release... I really wanted to include it aaaa. Enjoy!!

_Cute…_

It’s been on Akaashi’s mind for the better part of the week as Thursday rolled into Friday, and Friday into Saturday morning.

His brows have been in a perpetual state of furrowment since the past weekend when Kuroo had come to visit, and the hours following where Kozume had commented on his first, and still only, photo.

He takes his aggression out on his unsuspecting teeth and gums as he brushes them furiously, train of thought speeding down the tracks and ready to steamroll over his own lifeless body that’s tied to them. 

As he spits and rinses, he checks the watch adorning his wrist and calculates how long he has left to pace around his room and clear his head before he has to leave.

According to the time, he only has five minutes before he needs to head out in order to pick up the lunch he had said he’d grab on his way to Kuroo’s apartment.

That’s not nearly enough time for his thoughts to run amok at all.

With a huff of disapproval, he grabs his spare pair of gloves from the top drawer of his bedroom dresser and heads towards the entrance. He slips his winter coat over his shoulders, zips it up to his chin, and tugs the gloves onto his hands.

The scarf he had lent to Kuroo was the only one he brought when he moved out of his parent’s house, so he makes do without one. He picks his school bag up from by the door and slings it over his back. He then pats the pockets to his jeans, making sure he has his phone, keys, and wallet. Confirming that everything is where it should be, he locks his front door behind him as he steps out onto the landing and heads down the nearby stairwell to the street below.

Thankfully, it’s not as cold today as it had been throughout the week, so the walk from Akaashi’s apartment to the convenience store between his apartment and the station is bearable without his scarf. _Surviving_ the week without it was a different story though, and Akaashi already told himself that he’d make plenty sure Kuroo would feel his wrath for it. Or at least make him feel guiltier than Akaashi himself would have had he let Kuroo leave without wearing it.

It may be a lose-lose for Kuroo, but it’s a win-win for Akaashi, and _that_ is what matters.

When Akaashi finally finds himself in front of the convenience store, he takes a moment before stepping inside to pull out his phone.

It’s just about to turn 10:35, and the plan is for Akaashi to show up around 11:00. The walk to the station won’t be too much longer, and from Kuroo’s directions, his apartment is about as far from his neighboring station as Akaashi’s is from his own.

Pulling the glove from his right hand, Akaashi quickly composes a text to Kuroo letting him know he’s about to pick up their lunch and that he should be there within half an hour.

_At least I have the common courtesy to let him know when I’m leaving and when I should be there instead of just showing up half an hour early._

He quickly shakes the thought as Kuroo replies with a thumbs-up emoji, prompting Akaashi to return his phone to his pocket, reglove his hand, and step inside to pick up two bento lunches.

The subway ride itself is quick as well, though it’s packed considering the time on a Saturday morning. He closes his eyes as he holds onto the overhead railing in an attempt to drown out the quiet chatter that surrounds him.

His grip on the carry-out bag tightens as he focuses on not being jostled around. When his stop is eventually called, it seems like half the car exits alongside him, and he quickly glances around to make sure he’s exiting in the right direction.

Once outside, he checks his watch for the time.

_10:50_.

At that, his stomach rumbles with a low growl, and in just a few more minutes, he tells himself, he’ll finally be able to eat.

Aside from the comment Kozume left that most definitely kept him awake at night, Akaashi found that he wasn’t nearly _as_ nervous as he had been the first few times hanging out with Kuroo. 

They had been texting on and off all week, exchanging horror stories from class, whining about work, and sending memes or cute animal videos when the other needed a pick-me-up. And by that, it was Kuroo doing most of the story-telling, whining, and sending of cute videos. He didn’t seem to mind Akaashi’s inability to maintain such a conversation, and for that, Akaashi was…

Grateful.

Akaashi would interject with stories of his own here and there, but he found it much easier to let Kuroo talk and to just listen, commenting occasionally with his thoughts on whatever it was Kuroo was going through or had to say.

It had taken years for Akaashi and Bokuto to reach a point in their relationship where it was easier for Akaashi to open up regarding his deepest thoughts and feelings. Bokuto always knew what to say and when to say it to make Akaashi _not_ feel like a burden for unloading on him.

Over the years as well, Akaashi finds he’s gotten better about his self-deprecating nature, though there are still times he finds himself falling down that rabbit hole. When he does fall down it, he’s at least gotten better and stronger about pulling himself out.

A small part of him hopes that maybe someday he can find comfort in Kuroo the way he does Bokuto, too. He just hopes it doesn’t take years as it did before.

Not one to hold his breath on the matter, Akaashi finds himself standing in front of Kuroo’s apartment complex moments later, as his thoughts had distracted him enough that his feet mindlessly carried him in the right direction without him even realizing it.

Based on exterior alone, Kuroo’s building already looks far nicer and fancier than his own. With a huff of mild detestment, Akaashi pulls out his phone to double check the apartment number, and ascends the stairwell to the correct door.

He knocks and steps back on the landing. As he waits, he turns and takes in the view. Though still mostly surrounded by other buildings, Kuroo’s place of residence has more trees and shrubbery scattered about than Akaashi is used to. He leans against the railing to peer down at a row of bushes below the landing that line the pathway in front of the lower apartment units.

Everything is coated in a dewy frost from waking up in January’s winter, and Akaashi finds himself a little jealous that Kuroo, himself, gets to wake up every morning alongside it all, too.

His attention is drawn back to the door opening behind him, and as he turns, Kuroo, clad in black joggers and a black hoodie embellished with the Bouncing Ball logo (that Akaashi has grown familiar with as he browsed Kozume’s Instagram account) to match, stands leaning on the frame.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Kuroo teases as he steps aside to allow Akaashi in.

Remembering the time from when he just looked at his phone, 10:58, Akaashi tuts and hands the carry-out bag over to Kuroo as he takes off his shoes. 

“Technically I’m early,” he retorts and shimmies his bag from his back, setting it down while he removes his coat. “Still not as early as you, though,” he then chides as Kuroo takes his coat to hang up with a wrinkled nose of defeat.

“Never gonna let that go, are you?” Kuroo sighs as he leads Akaashi past his kitchen and into the living area where a wall-mounted television is quietly playing some anime Akaashi isn’t familiar with as background noise.

On the kotatsu table aligned in front of it are an assortment of books, some open and marked with little flags for future reference, some closed with sticky notes on the cover. A notebook covered in scrawling lays open by one edge of the table where the blanket is pushed back, presumably where Kuroo had been tucked away before Akaashi arrived.

Kuroo kneels down in front of the notebook and drapes the blanket back over his thighs, shuffling his textbooks out of the way to make room for Akaashi to sit. Once enough room has been cleared, Kuroo reaches out and grabs the television remote from the far corner and turns the television off.

As Akaashi rounds the table to sit opposite Kuroo, he takes in the vast amount of wall decorations Kuroo has on display. There are far more photographs aligning the walls; some of old teammates, both candid and professionally taken, a couple of photos of Kuroo and Kozume during their youth, there’s at least one or two printed and framed selfies of Kuroo and Bokuto that Akaashi spots amongst the others, and then one with the two of them with Sawamura from after Nekoma’s loss to Karasuno during nationals. 

On the wall behind Kuroo, as Akaashi sits, he notices one framed photo of Kuroo as a child surrounded by three adults: one man who looks to be not too much older than Kuroo and Akaashi are now, and an even older looking pair of individuals, a man and woman. From behind the frame, a drooping and doubtlessly dead white chrysanthemum sticks out.

Figuring it best not to question its purpose for now, Akaashi instead unzips his bag and begins pulling out his own study materials.

As he does so, his gaze continues to wander. Kuroo’s apartment, though Akaashi hasn’t been exposed to its entirety yet, already appears to be larger than Akaashi’s own. The living area alone is far more spacious, allowing room for a couple of ceiling high bookcases filled with books and the cat trinkets Kuroo had mentioned when he initially invited Akaashi over. There’s a small two-piece sectional sofa pressed into the far corner facing the television with a blanket thrown over one of the arms and a couple of throw pillows resting against the front of the sofa on the floor.

The thing that catches Akaashi’s eye the most, due to the fact that they're pretty hard to miss, is that the windows in Kuroo’s apartment are easily two to three times larger than the ones in Akaashi’s. They’re large enough that they allow enough natural light in where Kuroo can see and read without the need for an overhead light or table lamp during the day.

Swallowing his jealousy, Akaashi sets a workbook, notebook, and pencil pouch on the table, and nudges his bag aside for the time being.

Just as he’s pushing the sleeves to his long-sleeved shirt up, a steaming mug of something or other is pushed across the table into his line of sight. He blinks and follows the length of Kuroo’s retreating arm and up to his face and softened eyes.

“Back at your place when I was making tea, I noticed you had a lot of different herbal types. I picked some up at the store and made some before you got here. Forgot I could’ve just texted you and asked which you preferred, but it kind of slipped my mind. That’s lavender,” Kuroo nods his head in the direction of the mug he had just placed in front of Akaashi, “Hopefully that’s okay.”

Akaashi is… _stunned_ at the thoughtfulness. Momentarily forgetting his study materials, he reaches out and lifts the mug to his lips. A mild aroma wafts upwards alongside the steam and tickles his nose. He inhales deeply and closes his eyes as he takes a sip. He can taste a hint of honey as it runs down the back of his throat, and he lowers the mug with a small smile before opening his eyes to meet Kuroo’s gaze.

“Lucky for you, Kuroo-san… lavender happens to be my favourite.”

He sets the mug back down and watches as Kuroo picks up his own and takes an abnormally loud slurp from it, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe away what dribbles down his chin, and from where he sits Akaashi could have sworn he caught a hint of red on Kuroo’s cheeks before it was obscured. However, as Kuroo drops his hand back down, whatever Akaashi thought he saw is gone now.

“Oh, yeah,” Kuroo starts, twirling a pencil between his fingers, “I know I mentioned watching a movie later if you’re still up for that. Kenma said he’d come over for that and bring something for dinner and to drink. Figured I’d let you know now so you can decide if you still want to stick around before that time comes.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Kozume again,” Akaashi admits, hoping it will also give him an opportunity to try looking into his ‘cute’ comment from the other day. A faint line of annoyance forms between his brows at the way his stomach growls with the mention of dinner. “Speaking of food, where did you put the bag I brought?”

Kuroo blinks in a short-lived confusion before lifting the bag in question from the floor and setting it on the table between them. He then jumps up from the table and saunters out of the living area and into the kitchen. Shortly after, he returns with some additional plates if necessary, and sets them down on the table as well.

“Sorry, I got so caught up in my reading just before you showed up, I completely forgot I even had it in my hand,” he says, returning to his kneeling position and proceeds to check the contents of both containers, handing Akaashi’s over into his grabby hands.

“That’s fine, you can be distracted by your work all you want, but give me my food so I can eat it at least.”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Kuroo laughs and breaks apart his chopsticks to dig into his side of rice and lift it to his mouth.

As they eat, they make minimal small talk. Akaashi asks Kuroo what it is he’s working on. Kuroo responds with something about marketing. Confused, Akaashi asks for clarification as he chews his own rice. As Kuroo explains further, Akaashi finds his confusion worsening and Kuroo’s explanation comes to a drastic halt as he laughs at Akaashi’s scrunched nose.

“What about you then? What’re you working on?” Kuroo asks as he lifts a final piece of sushi into his mouth.

“Right now I’m trying to finish up writing this short story for one of my classes,” Akaashi responds with a sigh as he’s been struggling since midweek on how to end it.

“I know I told you I’m going for sports management, but it’s been over a week and I don’t think I ever asked and you never told me what it is you go to school for.”

“Oh,” Akaashi hums as he taps a chopstick against his lips, “I guess I haven’t. I’m going to school for literature. I'm hoping to work in the literature department of whichever company is available and willing to hire me upon graduating.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much about finding an employer,” Kuroo states matter-of-factly as he piles his empty container together and takes Akaashi’s as he hands it over as well. “I know how smart you are, you won’t have any problem finding a job at all.”

A soft blush kisses the backs of Akaashi’s ears as he takes a sip from his tea, muttering at Kuroo’s retreating form, “That’s very kind of you to say, Kuroo-san. But we’ll see how the job market looks once that time comes.”

When Kuroo returns from disposing of their trash, he places two fresh water bottles on the table and snorts at Akaashi’s comment. “Have more confidence in yourself, Akaashi,” he says and uncaps his own bottle to drink from.

_If only it were that easy_ , Akaashi thinks as he turns his attention back to the work before him on the table. Kuroo does the same.

They work in relative silence for a few hours before Kuroo’s phone goes off and he quickly picks it up to answer, wedging it between his ear and shoulder as he flips a page in his textbook.

“What’s up, Kenma?”

A pause.

“That’s a good question, hold on.”

The sudden interruption was enough to distract Akaashi from his writing, so he’s sitting there watching when Kuroo’s eyes flick up to his.

“Kenma’s getting ready to come over, said he’d pick up whatever you want, his treat,” Kuroo directs towards Akaashi before stating his own order into the phone. His eyelids narrow and he turns his gaze away from Akaashi as he lowly grumbles into the phone. “If it’s such a big deal I’ll pay you back for mine later, okay? Geez. No, no. If it’s a problem, I ins— you little shit.”

Kuroo’s grumble turns into a boisterous laugh as he turns his attention back to Akaashi, awaiting his response.

When Kuroo repeats back to Kozume Akaashi’s order, he notices the way Akaashi shivers and tugs the sleeves to his shirt down from his elbows to his wrists. He bites the inside of his cheek as Kenma speaks, barely listening but still just enough to tell him he’ll see him soon before hanging up.

“Cold?” Kuroo asks as he hits the end call button and sets his phone screen down on the table.

“Huh? Oh, I guess it has gotten a little chillier since it got dark out. But I should be fine, nothing to worry about.”

Kuroo clicks his tongue and stands from the table, trotting off into a room opposite the kitchen.

Akaashi raises a brow as he watches him go, and bites his tongue when he sees Kuroo return holding up to inspect one of his old, red Nekoma hoodies.

“It’s a little faded, but other than that it should do the trick,” he says while holding it out towards Akaashi. “I figure we’re about the same size, so hopefully it fits.”

Akaashi waves a hand, trying to shoo the garment away. “Oh, Kuroo-san, I’m fine rea—”

He’s cut short when the hoodie is dropped over his head, obstructing his vision. He pulls it down and glares at Kuroo who’s innocently kneeling back down at his side of the table.

“Remember what you said to me about not underestimating the month of January and how you would’ve felt guilty if I had gotten sick on my way home from your place? Just consider it me continuing to return the favor for you letting me borrow your scarf and gloves and for keeping me and my immune system safe. Which, don’t let me forget to give them back this time before you leave,” Kuroo rests his elbow on the table so he can prop up his chin and smirk at the frown Akaashi is shooting his way.

Cold and defeated, Akaashi lifts the bottom over his head with a sigh and sticks his arms and head through the holes, brushing it down over his torso.

It is… a little bigger than Akaashi would have expected. Probably because Kuroo has a slightly wider torso and shoulders compared to his own, but that makes it easier to slip on over his shirt without it being uncomfortable or riding up. He grips at the cuff of one of the sleeves in his fist and uses the other to tug one of the hood strings down so the two are even. He doesn’t meet Kuroo’s gaze as he issues him a quiet ‘thank you,’ and quickly returns to his work.

Kuroo thinks it’s a good thing Akaashi hadn’t looked up, for he can feel the heat rising into his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose as he stares at the other before him wearing his hoodie.

Red dusts Akaashi’s cheeks, and Kuroo can’t tell if it’s a blush or from the reflection of the hoodie against Akaashi’s pristine skin. During the process of tugging the hoodie on, Akaashi’s normally tidy curls tousled and are now sticking up in various directions. Kuroo finds he has to do everything in his power not to reach out and run his fingers through them in an effort to tame them back into their place... perhaps run his thumb across one of those round cheeks to see if he can feel a heat rising beneath the surface.

_Red_ , a color Kuroo has grown far too accustomed to over the years, _has never looked so good,_ he thinks as he, too, returns to his notes and wills his own blush to fade.

They remain silent for half an hour longer until there’s a loud knock at the front door that draws both their attention.

As Kuroo gets up to answer it, Akaashi, assuming Kozume has finally arrived, finishes his final thought on paper and packs his things back into his bag. Just as he zips it closed, his suspicions are confirmed as Kozume ambles in and greets Akaashi with a brief wave as he sets a couple of bags on the table.

Kuroo follows a minute later carrying plates, glasses, and beers from his own fridge that he sets down beside everything Kozume brought.

Kozume’s gaze almost instantly darts to the faded lettering over Akaashi’s left breast where the word ‘Nekoma’ lies, before glancing at Kuroo who’s eyes widen in response and quickly turns his head as he starts unbagging their dinners.

Though he doesn’t say anything, _he doesn’t have to_ , they’ve known each other long enough and Kozume’s intuition is strong enough that it feels like it’s wrapping around Kuroo’s throat and suffocating him. Silence has never felt so loud, Kuroo thinks as he sets aside a handle of whiskey next to various other cans of beer Kozume bought.

“It’s nice to see you again, Kozume,” Akaashi says, breaking the stifling silence in the room, much to Kuroo’s relief.

Kozume nods in affirmation as he kneels at the table, claiming one of the sides between Kuroo and Akaashi for his own. He then distributes everyone’s dinners: sushi for himself and Akaashi, and cold soba for Kuroo. A moment later, a beer is cracked open and before Akaashi can get a word of thanks in, Kozume downs half of it.

During this, Kuroo stacks his study materials together and moves to put them in his bedroom before joining the other two and dumping a bagful of snacks Kozume had also brought onto the table alongside their dinners.

“You went a little all out this time, don’t you think, Kenma?” Kuroo asks as he swats a bag of chips away to unearth his chopsticks to begin eating.

“It’s not every day we have Akaashi joining us,” he says flatly, reaching to grab the television remote to fill the room with some quiet, ambient noise as they eat. “Plus I had a relatively large donation come in during my stream today, so think of this as a gift from a fan.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes and slurps up his noodles, pausing only to grab a beer for himself. As he cracks it open, he notices Akaashi nibbling on a piece of his sushi and offers him a beer as well.

“Ah, I’ll have some whiskey in a little bit actually,” Akaashi says with a raised hand to signal he doesn’t want the beer. Without missing a beat, Kozume reaches out and uncaps the handle of whiskey from the center of the table and pours a glass for Akaashi, placing it in front of him with a nod of the head.

Akaashi thanks him and raises his glass to take a sip. It burns as it slides down the back of his throat, but it’s a welcome sensation he knows will help him recover from the long week at school.

“So, what are we watching?” Kozume asks around his beer can, taking a sip as his eyes shift between Kuroo and Akaashi.

“That was going to be my question as well,” Akaashi follows up, prompting both sets of eyes to then fall on Kuroo.

“Well, alright then,” Kuroo says with a shrug, “if you’re leaving it to me, there’s a realtively newer movie that came out last year, and it was just put on Netflix. All the girls in my classes have been in near tears as they talk about it. The plot sort of piqued my interest, so I figured we could watch it if you’re both interested.”

“And what might that be, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks with a raised brow.

“ _Your Name_ ,” he says and immediately scowls as Kozume snorts. “Hey! Like I said, you left the decision to me! Apparently it’s set to be one of the biggest movies in history, so I wanna watch it!”

“Isn’t that a romance movie, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks, biting back a smile that threatens to betray him.

“It sure is,” Kozume snorts again, “You may not believe it, but Kuroo is quite the romantic,” he adds on and backs out of the way of Kuroo’s arm as he dives around the corner of the table to try and grab him.

Kuroo faceplants into Kozume’s thigh and whines as he’s pushed off onto the floor. He shifts himself back into a kneeling position and rubs at his forehead. “You don’t have to throw me under the bus like that. If you have another suggestion, let’s hear it.”

Before Kozume can reply, Akaashi speaks up, earning both their attention. “If it’s alright with you, Kozume,” he starts and turns to hold Kuroo’s gaze, teasing glint in his eye, “I wouldn’t mind watching it.”

Kozume sighs with an ‘alright, if you’re sure,’ and finishes off his first can of beer, quick to replace it with a second. “I’m gonna need more of these if Kuroo’s sitting us down for a romance movie.”

“It’s not _that_ bad,” Kuroo emphasises and slams the rest of his own beer with a grunt.

“I suppose I’ll be the judge of that, now won’t I?” Akaashi adds on and with that, they all return to finishing their meals.

Akaashi finishes his whiskey with his last piece of sushi, and Kuroo reaches over to refill his glass. He then pours one for Kozume, and Akaashi takes the handle to pour one for Kuroo as well. The three clink their glasses together in solidarity before taking sips in unison.

Kuroo’s nose scrunches up as it hits his tongue, and he swallows with a gasp for air. “This is the worst one you’ve brought to date, Kenma. What the hell?” he says in exasperation while picking the handle up and looking over the label.

“Maybe next time you should just provide for yourself,” Kozume shoots back and takes another sip. “For the record, this one is my favourite so far. The one _you_ picked out last time was disgusting.”

Kuroo inhales sharply in shock. “And yet, _that_ _one_ was _my_ favourite.”

“Oh wow, it’s almost as if we have different tastes,” Kozume rolls his eyes before turning to Akaashi. “What do you think?” he asks, gaze locked with Akaashi’s.

Akaashi, who can feel the effects of the alcohol starting to work its way through his system, hums as his cheeks warm. “I don’t think it’s all that bad. I’m quite partial to it if I’m being honest. Though I’ll still have a beer or two during the movie if that’s alright.”

Kozume confirms that it is before turning to stick his tongue out at Kuroo. “Two to one, looks like you lose this one, Kuro.”

Kuroo sighs and hangs his head in defeat; in an effort to get it over with and not put it to waste, he tips his entire glass back and shudders as it collides against the back of his throat. His entire torso feels on fire as he swallows and immediately jumps up from his kneeling position to pace in little circles while it slowly settles in his stomach. Everything burns as he picks up a water bottle he had provided earlier on during the day and chugs it dry.

“Wuss,” Kozume chuckles quietly, and the sound and sight of Kuroo’s reaction encourages Akaashi to join in.

Once Kuroo composes himself and settles his dramatics, he looks between the two laughing at his expense with a huff. He waits until they, too, have settled down before the empty containers are removed from the table, snacks are distributed, and beers are sorted as they all claim spots on Kuroo’s sofa.

Kozume immediately crawls onto the chaise sectional, grabs a pillow from the floor, and drapes the blanket over himself before taking a sip of his third beer. He meets Kuroo’s gaze with a slow blink and says “What?”

“Making yourself right at home, aren’t you?” Kuroo says and plops down onto the further cushion of the sofa, leaving room in the middle for Akaashi.

“Oh, you mean like how you barge into my house all the time unannounced? Think of this as payback,” Kozume retorts and rolls his eyes before glancing up at Akaashi from where he’s reclined, watching as he slowly sits down between the bickering pair. “If you get cold Akaashi, we can share the blanket.”

Kuroo sputters and feels his ears burn as two sets of eyes turn to him, one questioning and one _knowing exactly what he’s doing_.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll be alright,” Akaashi responds as he leans into the back cushion with his beer nestled in his hands which rest in his lap.

“Offer stands if you change your mind,” and with that, Kozume leaves a corner of the blanket within Akaashi’s reach and smirks at Kuroo when Akaashi isn’t looking.

Kuroo, now agitated, hops back up from the sofa to grab the remote. He opens Netflix before returning to sit. As he does so, he sits just a _little_ bit closer to Akaashi, close enough that their thighs brush gently together and Kuroo has to suppress the shiver that tingles up his spine. He knows Kozume is watching him, studying him - _calculating_. Thankfully, no comment is made, and Akaashi makes no effort to move beyond raising his can to his lips to take a sip of his beer.

After a moment passes, Kuroo clears his throat, brings up the movie, presses play, and sets the remote down beside him on the sofa as the stream loads.

As the movie progresses, the effects of all the alcohol they had consumed begins to fully hit Kozume first. His head, from where it had been resting on one of Kuroo’s throw pillows, lolls to the side and bonks Akaashi in the arm. The sensation draws Akaashi’s attention, and he looks down on Kozume with a soft look in his eye, a tender smile on his lips. He shifts his nearly empty can to one hand and uses the other to tuck the slipping blanket back around Kozume’s sleeping form, moving it to then carefully brush a strand of hair from his face that looks to be tickling his nose.

Kuroo watches his best friend being taken care of so considerately and feels his heart swell. His arm rests across the back of the sofa, and when Akaashi leans back in his spot, the back of his head lightly presses into Kuroo’s bicep.

Neither makes a move to correct the position, but Kuroo has to do everything in his power not to draw his hand back just enough to run his fingers through Akaashi’s hair for the second time that day alone.

Just as Kuroo’s fingers twitch with an itch to do just as described, Akaashi’s voice carries up to his ear in a hushed whisper, stopping him in his tracks.

“Does he always get like this?” Akaashi asks, referring to Kozume whose forehead is pressed against his arm.

“Ah, not all the time. Like he implied, just when I force him to watch movies like this,” he responds quietly, gaze flicking from the television screen down to Kozume with a smile before back to the screen, hand gripping the cushion to keep his impulsive desire under control.

Akaashi hums in acknowledgement and finishes off the last of his beer, at which Kuroo offers to take the can to put on the floor in front of them.

When he settles back into position, the way his weight shifts the cushion beneath causes Akaashi’s thighs to press more firmly into Kuroo’s, as if Akaashi’s being pulled into Kuroo’s gravitational pull. And as he holds his breath, Akaashi doesn’t move away.

They’re a little more than three-quarters of the way through the movie, and it’s about here where Kuroo’s heartstrings are officially being tugged and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from getting emotional in front of Akaashi. A moment passes, and he feels a gentle weight settling down on the outer edge of his foot. Akaashi, having picked up on the way Kuroo’s energy shifted, had lifted the edge of his own foot to settle atop Kuroo's in an attempt to provide him some semblance of comfort, though he’s driven more on drunken impulse and feeling than logical thinking.

Kuroo’s heart pounds against his chest as he grips the back cushion in a failed attempt to calm himself from the way his singular drunken braincell ping-pongs around in his head. His heart is drumming so loud in his ears, he can hardly hear the movie anymore; and his eyes are too blurred from holding back tears in a drunken haze to read the subtitles he opted for halfway through the movie.

Eventually, the movie comes to an end and they both sit in a mutual silence as the screen fades and they’re brought back to the menu. Kuroo is the first to move, pulling himself from the slight weight of Akaashi against his bicep, thigh, and foot. All these areas burn while simultaneously feeling cold from the sudden lack of warmth and pressure. Akaashi is more hesitant to get up, as Kozume had taken to holding onto his forearm during his sleep, and he doesn’t want to wake him.

Kuroo sighs as he helps adjust Kozume’s position so he’s coddled back up against the throw pillow, freeing Akaashi from his grip. “Looks like he’s not going anywhere anytime soon,” he says and offers a hand to help Akaashi to his feet.

He doesn’t know what’s coming over him, but he blames it entirely on the alcohol as Akaashi’s hand encompases his and Kuroo tugs him off the sofa. Their hands linger in a shared warmth before Akaashi draws his back first and turns to pick up the various cans and empty chip bags from the floor.

They both move quietly, trying not to crinkle or rustle the empty packages too much so as to not wake Kozume whose nose scrunches up as Kuroo accidentally steps on a bag. They pause and watch until Kozume’s expression softens, and Akaashi lets out a quiet chuckle before moving from the living area into the kitchen to organize the trash.

A few minutes later Kuroo and Akaashi find themselves standing at the front door, Akaashi with his bag in hand. Kuroo says he’d offer him a place to crash had Kozume not already passed out, and Akaashi lets out another soft laugh and shakes his head.

“Just make sure he stays hydrated. Alcohol aside, I’m confident most of the water that was left in his body came out as drool on my arm,” he states in a hushed tone to which Kuroo snickers at.

Just as Kuroo reaches up to grab Akaashi’s coat for him, he’s stopped in his tracks when Akaashi lets out a quiet ‘ _oh!_ ’ and sets his bag down to lift the hem of Kuroo’s hoodie.

“ _Ah, ah!_ ” Kuroo tuts and swats at Akaashi’s hands, the front of the hoodie falling back down over his abdomen. “It’s late. It’s probably gotten a lot colder out there since you showed up. You can wear it for now to keep warm. As a matter-of-fact…” Kuroo turns and slips Akaashi’s scarf from one of the wall hooks.

Akaashi hums as the scarf is presented to him, though he’s brow is creased at the way Kuroo wouldn’t let him take off the hoodie. “You better not be using this as an excuse to come visit again, Kuroo-san,” he drawls out through his drunken stupor, though it’s more of a teasing tone than a serious one.

Kuroo’s next movements are slow, but startle Akaashi as they happen. Taking the scarf, Kuroo reaches up and wraps it around Akaashi’s neck, looping it together in front. He tucks the ends into the front of the hoodie before raising his gaze to meet Akaashi’s.

“And what if I am?” he says quietly, words meant only for Akaashi’s ears as he looks into Akaashi’s glossed over eyes for any indication of approval or otherwise. 

Akaashi’s mouth gapes as he tries desperately to grasp at the words that escape him. When nothing of value comes out, he purses his lips and instead reaches up to take his coat down and slips it on over Kuroo’s hoodie.

“You’re drunk, Kuroo-san,” he says after some time, zipping his coat up and claiming his bag from the floor, strapping it to his back.

“I’m drunk, not stupid.”

Akaashi’s mouth runs dry as they both slip their shoes on and Kuroo steps aside to hold the door open for him. Both move from the entrance to the landing, and Akaashi steps forward to the railing and grips the cold metal in his hands, having forgotten to put his gloves on. He’s suddenly reminded of the fact that Kuroo still has his other gloves, but after the events that just transpired, he can’t bring himself to ask about them.

They stand there for a minute, Akaashi’s eyes trained at the night sky. Much like the abundance of surrounding greenery and ample window space, Akaashi finds himself both impressed and jealous of the fact that despite the neighboring buildings, he can make out a multitude of stars in the vast sky overhead.

His jaw hangs open as he takes it all in, mouthing a silent ‘ _wow_ ’ in disbelief. “It’s beautiful,” he whispers quietly, fingers finally slipping from their icy grip around the railing to his sides.

Kuroo, who had been staring at Akaashi’s reaction, swears he can see a shooting star reflected in his drunken, glossy eyes.

**_...that day when the stars came falling…_ **

“Yeah, it is,” he whispers back and bites his lip, forcing his gaze downward to his own hands which are still tightly gripping the railing.

Unbeknownst to the other in the dark shroud of night, both are blushing as they stand side-by-side. 

“Well,” Akaashi finally says after a moment of silence. As Kuroo lifts his head in the direction of Akaashi’s voice, he finds they’re standing close enough that the force of Akaashi’s breath tickles Kuroo’s cheeks and nose, causing his breath to hitch. “I better get going. Thank you for having me over, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo nods. “Text me when you’re home safe,” he requests and lifts his hand in a slight wave as Akaashi turns to descend the stairwell. He stands on the landing and watches him go until he turns off the pathway around the corner and disappears from view.

**_...our timelines weren’t in step… If time can really be turned back, give me one last chance…_ **

A line from the movie plays in his head as he pushes himself from the railing and returns to the warm embrace of his apartment.

Kuroo feels like he was given his second chance as he closes and locks the door behind him, thankful to whichever gods that threw Akaashi back into his life.

As he removes his shoes and steps back inside, he can hear a quiet snort from Kozume who’s now sitting up clutching his throw pillow to his chest with his eyes on Kuroo. Kuroo rolls his own in response and says, “Go back to bed, you’re drunk.”

***

Akaashi dawdles down the sidewalk, head slowly clearing from it’s inebriated, foggy state as the cold air on his face shocks his system. In an attempt to combat it, he burrows down into his scarf. As he inhales, Kuroo’s lingering scent floats around him in a warm embrace that fills his lungs and squeezes his heart.

_It smells nice_ … he thinks as he boards the subway at the station and drops into a seat near the door.

His eyes close and he enters a state of near unconsciousness, deeply inhaling Kuroo’s scent, mental clinging to attentiveness just enough that he hears when his stop is called and he moves to exit the subway.

The remaining walk between the station and his apartment is difficult, if only because he wants nothing more than to collapse onto his bed already and envelop himself in sleep.

Eventually, his feet find their way home and he drops his bag to the floor, removes his shoes, and strips his coat and scarf.

He quickly changes from his cold, stiff jeans and settles for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before brushing any hint of alcohol from his teeth and tongue.

He digs his phone from his bag before returning to his bedroom, and as he steps inside and closes the door, exhausted eyes dart to the red hoodie that he had tossed aside and landed on his bed.

For a moment, he hesitates. He swallows. But soon enough, he’s reaching out and picking the hoodie up to tug back down over his torso. As he removes his glasses and turns off the light, he crawls into bed, wrapped in Kuroo, and pulls his phone in front of his face.

**_Akaashi_ **: I made it home and in bed safe. I can’t wait to see how much of a hangover I have in the morning. You’re a terrible influence.

A reply comes in not much later, before Akaashi has a chance to close his eyes.

**_Kuroo_ **: I may be a bad influence, but how’s my hoodie?

Akaashi huffs and doesn’t care as a blush tickles his ears. In this moment, he finds himself presented with two choices: he can either lie and brush the comment off, or he can be straightforward about his current position.

As he lies there staring at the screen, he thinks back to the last bit of time spent at Kuroo’s apartment, how as more and more time passed, the two found themselves falling deeper into each other’s personal spaces.

And then there was what Kuroo said as Akaashi was getting ready to leave.

_‘What if I am?’ … He wants to spend more time together? Why? I can hardly wrap my head around what he’s thinking._

Akaashi lets out a low groan and rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He grips his phone tight in his hand as he considers both his choices, and after another moment of quiet contemplation, brings his phone back into his field of view and sends a message before he can second-guess himself.

**_Akaashi_ **: It’s very comfortable, Kuroo-san. Thank you.

**_Kuroo_ **: It suits you well, you can keep it.

Well that was… unexpected. The blush from his ears paints itself across his cheeks as he presses his phone to his chest where his heart begins to race.

_What is going on, what is going on, what is going on, whatisgoingonwhatisgoingonwhatisgoi-?_

He pulls his phone back to see the screen only when he hears the low notification chime ring out into his otherwise quiet room.

**_Kuroo_ **: Goodnight, Akaashi. Rest well.

Akaashi replies with a quick ‘goodnight’ himself, and just before he can lock his phone, a message comes in from Kozume. The notification indicates the message has an attachment, and when Akaashi opens it up, an image of Kuroo sitting on the edge of the sofa is partially obscured by a triangular ‘play’ button.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Akaashi presses play, and Kuroo’s emotion-riddled voice quietly comes out of his speaker. He’s drunkenly getting worked up over the events of the movie, the relationship between the two main characters, the entire concept of soulmates, and going on a tangent about rekindling lost love.

At one point, Kuroo’s gaze lifts and Akaashi can see his eyes welling with tears. His brows scrunch together, allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek as he reaches out towards the camera, covering his face with his other hand.

The video ends there, and as Akaashi clicks back to the previous screen, there’s a new message waiting for him from Kozume to accompany the video

**_Kozume_ **: Just after you left, he finally let the movie get to him. This is what I normally have to deal with.

Akaashi snorts and figures it best not to respond and work Kuroo up even further, though he assumes a considerable amount of time has passed since the recorded events took place. Instead, he finds himself rolling over to bury his face in his pillow. His mind is filled with a slurry of thoughts, and he ultimately falls asleep trying to mull through and understand them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feb. 4th 2021 EDIT -- MY DEAREST FRIEND OLIVE ( [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naniiamo/pseuds/Naniiamo/works) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Flakeandbake1) ) DROPPED [THIS GORGEOUS ART](https://twitter.com/Flakeandbake1/status/1357494209322905602) ON MY LAP AS IF IT WERE NOTHING, PLEASE GO READ THEIR WORK AND ADMIRE THEIR ART ON TWITTER, THEY'RE TRULY AMAZING AS A PERSON AND A FRIEND, AND I HAVE BEEN CRYING FOR AN HOUR NOW
> 
> ***
> 
> Ok so I did this thing again where I said Bokuto would show up, but then I let the chapter get away from me again, and... well... I can’t put him off any longer, he’s 100% showing up next chapter LOL. There’s no plausible way I can leave him out with what I have planned, so please stay tuned hehe. 
> 
> Thank you again for your supportive comments, kudos, and hits! It makes me so happy to know this is resonating with so many of you and fueling your KuroAka needs! I'm truly astonished to have 20 people subbed to this story so far; that's 20 more than I ever would've expected, so thank you so much for everything!! 
> 
> (Also, do you want to know how many times I listened to Nandemonaiya on repeat while writing this? The answer is an astronomical amount and I am SOFT; I almost ate the ceramic of my coffee mug for breakfast this morning because I love KuroAka so much.)
> 
> Feel free to reach out to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/stephtxt/) if you'd like to cry over KuroAka together! :') And please continue to let me know what your favourite parts are, if any! I love comparing them to the parts I enjoyed writing the most, and normally notice a correlation between what I loved and what you all do, too! ♡ I'm also glad you all love flustered!Kuroo; don't worry, he'll be showing up plenty more over the next few chapters. (●´艸`)


	6. Chapter 6

The days of the week came and went and the contact between Kuroo and Akaashi was minimal. As they both resettled down into their class schedules after winter break, the easy first week and a half of adjustment had ended, and things had since picked up in the second. Kuroo found himself spending nearly every day in and out trying to absorb as much of his class material as he could before the inevitable arrival of finals the week following.

Currently, Kuroo sits tapping the sides of his phone case alternatively between his index fingers. His screen displays his ongoing message thread with Bokuto, and his nerves have spiked only a  _ considerable _ amount. 

The last message in the thread was sent by Kuroo, asking if Bokuto was going to be back in Tokyo by Friday afternoon. Though they had already gone over his arrival shortly after Kuroo left Akaashi’s apartment last week when Bokuto originally called them, he wanted to double check.

Kuroo is more nervous now, waiting for Bokuto’s ‘delivered’ receipt to turn to ‘read,’ than any given time he was waiting for the results of a difficult test. Or even when he faced Bokuto during the Tokyo prefectural qualifiers during their last year in high school. He repeatedly tells himself that there’s no reason he needs to be worried right now. It’s not like he hasn’t done more terrifying things throughout his life.

Sure, he may be working up the courage to present himself next to his most vulnerable, but everything’s  _ fine _ . If anything, losing both his grandparents shortly after one another just a few months ago was more stressful than what he’s going through now. 

The reminder of his loss pangs his heart as his gaze lifts from where he’s wrapped up beneath his kotatsu table to the framed photograph on the opposite wall. The stem of white chrysanthemum tucked behind the frame has started to bend to the point of nearly breaking in half, and Kuroo figures it best to just throw it away at this point in time. However, something about it hanging there as a reminder seems to keep him grounded, like it’s presence alone is a waypoint for his grandparents to find him.

He sighs, feeling silly. 

Though they, as well as his father, weren’t as present in his life growing up as some of the families of his friends, most notably Kozume’s (with whom he would spend most of his free time growing up), losing someone - losing  _ two _ someones nearly simultaneously -  _ hurts _ .

Marinating in his feelings, he considers the small memorial he and his father had set up in his father’s house; he reminds himself to pay a visit once exams have concluded and before graduation.

As he brings his attention back to his phone, it blips softly in his hand as Bokuto’s response comes through, having opened and read Kuroo’s message when he wasn’t paying attention.

**_Bokuto_ ** : Yeah, I’ll be back Thursday night actually! What is it, Kuroo? can’t wait to see me or something? (*・艸・)

Kuroo tuts at the information presented to him as well as the teasing addendum and feels his fingers twitch as he works to compose his message.

**_Kuroo_ ** : Ah, damn. You caught me red-handed, bro. (ノ▽〃) How’d you know?

He hits send, pauses, and then sends another.

**_Kuroo_ ** : I was actually wondering if you’d be down to get lunch or dinner or something on Friday? Just the two of us, y’know? Catch up and have some bro-time. My classes end early so I’m free anytime after noon.

As he hits send he has to keep from biting his entire fist and immediately wishes he could go back and not sound so weird or eager or dramatic.

_ Honestly, ‘bro-time?’ What the hell was that… _

He feels like Yamamoto when he grew close and would talk with Karasuno’s Tanaka, throwing the word ‘bro’ around like confetti.

Maybe his nerves are getting to him more than he’d care to fully admit.

His face is buried in his hands when Bokuto’s reply comes a minute later, accompanied by a ping that urges Kuroo to raise his face ever so slowly from its hiding place.

**_Bokuto_ ** : I’d be down! Let’s do lunch! (^^)ｂ

***

When Kuroo exits the station after class the next day and turns the corner in the direction of the cafe he and Bokuto decided on, he has to keep himself from full-on sprinting down the sidewalk in excitement and anticipation.

Sure, Kozume may be Kuroo’s  _ best _ friend, and over the years he’s grown closer to Yaku despite their rocky start, and Kai as well… but  _ Bokuto _ is probably the closest he has to a second best friend after Kozume. Though they didn’t keep up with one another as frequently since high school graduation, having Akaashi fall back into Kuroo’s life meant Bokuto fell back into it as well. Like two peas from the same pod.

Any underlying nerves as to the  _ real _ reason why they’re meeting up today are overpowered by the strong urge to wrap Bokuto in a hug and see his “dumb” face in person.

A few minutes pass as Kuroo’s legs absentmindedly weave him through the crowd on the sidewalk, dodging around couples meandering about holding hands, children toddling away from their parents, and students walking home from class. As he rounds one last corner, he spots a head of familiar silver hair peeking out from above the crowd in front of him. In an effort to reign in his overwhelming excitement, he slows his pace and shoves his hands, which are once again wrapped in the warmth of Akaashi’s borrowed gloves, in his jacket pockets.

He stands a few feet away from Bokuto now, and it’s then when the other finally looks up from where he had been tapping on his phone screen. Kuroo’s composed demeanor quickly drops as Bokuto’s face lights up and he hurriedly pockets his phone, a lop-sided grin splicing across his own face in response. Now within arms reach, they smile and lock hands between their chests, opposite hands reaching up to clap the other on the back in greeting. 

Before Kuroo can even utter a word, Bokuto takes the initiative, his arms suddenly around Kuroo’s upper arms and torso in an embrace. Kuroo can feel and hear his spine cracking as Bokuto squeezes him so tight his heels leave the pavement; he thinks he might see god. Bokuto’s arms flex against Kuroo’s own through their jackets, and it’s a rather jarring experience from Kuroo’s perspective.

Eventually, he lets out a wheeze at which Bokuto loosens his grip and sets him back down, grin as bright as the sun itself set on his lips as he claps Kuroo on the shoulder. Once Kuroo finds his composure again, he laughs and reaches up to wrap his fingers around Bokuto’s upper arm.

“Dude, holy  _ shit _ . You’re fucking  _ jacked _ . Did your arms double in size since I last saw you?”

The ringing sound of Bokuto’s laugh reverberates through Kuroo’s skull as he watches him raise an arm to flex, the fabric of his winter coat now taut around his bicep. Kuroo lets out a teasing, low whistle as he reaches out to swat Bokuto’s arm down.

“Alright, alright! Sticking to volleyball has had it’s benefits, I see. Anyway, lets get inside. It’s freezing out here.”

“Maybe if you kept some muscle on your bones, you wouldn’t be so cold!” Bokuto says between snickers, dodging Kuroo’s fist of retaliation as he holds the door open for him to enter.

The cafe they had chosen is small and quaint, a red brick-and-mortar exterior nestled between two taller commercial buildings on either side. The interior compliments the exterior nicely; ceiling-high windows spaced evenly across the store-front which cushion displays of artwork hung upon the exposed brick between them. Small, square tables that seat no more than two to four at a time align the walls near the windows. However, given their proximity to the outside, Kuroo’s eyes land on one of the smaller, round tables that litter the area between the windows and the front display counter. There are a couple that are still vacant as they take their place in line, so he hopes they remain as such by the time they order their food.

Given the time of day, business men and women dressed in long coats tap away on their phones as they wait in front of them, presumably on their lunch breaks from the neighboring buildings. As they slowly make their way forward, Kuroo watches as a few of the patrons begin claiming tables with their respective coffees or lunches in hand. When it’s finally their turn to approach the cashier, Kuroo orders a bento and coffee for himself, and ushers Bokuto forward in an offer to pay for his as well; he makes sure Bokuto sees him roll his eyes when he orders a hot cocoa.

Moments later, Kuroo beelines for the last remaining roundtop upon which he sets his bento and coffee. After slipping off his jacket and folding it over the back of the chair, he sets his gloves -  _ Akaashi’s _ gloves - beside his lunch and takes a seat. Bokuto joins him not long after, following suit by removing his jacket and sitting down. They each give thanks for their food before greedily digging in.

As it was, Kuroo had skipped out on breakfast that morning in lieu of nerves that overwhelmed his desire to eat instead. He managed to push them aside just enough to pop open his bento and shove some rice in his mouth, lest his stomach not only betray, but embarrass him by roaring to life in the middle of the cafe.

While they eat, they make small talk back and forth. Kuroo asks how Osaka is treating Bokuto, while Bokuto goes on the equivalent of a lecture in response before following it up by asking how Kuroo’s are going. Their back and forth continues until their bentos are emptied and their bellies full.

Kuroo leans back in his chair, fingers curled around the mug of coffee in front of him, allowing the residual warmth to seep into his palms and warm his still chilled fingers. As their conversation continues on, mostly Bokuto going on long and winding tangents about something “ _ Tsum-tsum” _ did during yesterday’s practice, one of the baristas walks by and collects their empty bento boxes. Kuroo nods his thanks before turning his eyes back down to his coffee.

Now that their lunches have been eaten, the nerves he had managed to push aside have begun to creep their way back in and root themselves deep in his stomach. Despite the fact that this is  _ Bokuto _ and how many times he mentally tells himself that there’s no need to be nervous, it doesn’t change anything.

He’s drawn from his mental stew when Bokuto’s head bends down into his peripheral with a quizzical look on his face. An arm reaches out, hand waving in front of his still downcast eyes. Kuroo tuts and reaches up to swat it away, straightening in his chair as Bokuto retracts his arm and settles his hands back on the table.

“You okay, dude? You’ve been pretty spaced out the past few minutes,” Bokuto observes with a raise of the brow, and Kuroo lets out a low huff when he feels Bokuto kick his shin beneath the table.

Figuring it best not to stew any longer, because this is  _ definitely not him _ , Kuroo unfurls his fingers from his mug and draws them back into his lap. After a minute of Bokuto’s eyes feeling like they were staring directly into Kuroo’s soul, he takes a deep breath and allows his walls to come down one by one.

“There’s something I actually wanted to talk to you about that couldn’t wait until I saw you tomorrow,” he starts, steeling himself enough to hold Bokuto’s gaze and watching as his brow returns to it’s questioning arch.

“Alright, shoot. What’s up?”

A few more seconds pass as Kuroo mulls over what it is exactly he’s trying to say.  _ Shit… I should’ve planned this out _ , he mentally curses as his fingers curl into his palms as his hands rest atop each respective thigh. The last time he presented himself this formally to another was during his university interview nearly four years back. He reminds himself, again, that this is  _ just _ Bokuto.

“ _ Gods _ , I feel like I’m asking his dad for his hand in marriage,” he mutters while stretching his fingers out and cups his knees, all the while maintaining eye contact with his best friend across the table.

Bokuto’s brows meet in the middle now, scrunched together as he, too, leans back into his chair with his hands in his lap. His voice is level when he speaks, and it takes everything in Kuroo to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest at the sound of it.

“Kuroo… what’s going on?”

Another pause.

Finally, Kuroo blurts it out before he can swallow the word vomit threatening his closed off throat.

“I really like Akaashi.”

They sit in silence then, the muted chatter of the other occupants around them filling the void that has settled itself between them.

With his gaze still locked with Bokuto’s, Kuroo watches his face go through a plethora of emotions. Shock. Confusion. What looks like delight. It’s almost comical the way Bokuto’s eyes squint, widen, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for breath.

But no feature on his face says ‘angry.’ 

Never angry.

Without warning, Bokuto’s hand shoots up to cover his mouth with a gasp loud enough to alarm the couple sitting next to them. Kuroo utters a quiet apology before returning his focus to Bokuto who now looks… Pained?

“ _ Shit _ …” is the first word he speaks to break the silence, hand now running into his hair while the other takes its place in covering his mouth. “Dude, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, voice muffled by his palm. “If I had known I wouldn’t have helped Akaashi set up his dating profile, I would’ve tried to help in getting you two together. I-  _ shit _ , I feel so stupid for never having realized.”

At that, Kuroo blinks.

And then blinks again.

And soon after, a chuckle bubbles up from the cesspool of nerves and self-doubt lingering in his stomach, brushing past his lips and warming the tip of his nose as he lowers his head in an attempt to stifle the laughter.

“And here I thought you were gonna be mad,” he says, raising his head with a shake and laughing again as Bokuto’s hands slam onto the table.

“I  _ am _ mad! Furious! At you for never making it obvious, and me for not realizing!” Bokuto proclaims, lip jutting forward in a slight pout. As Kuroo stiffles another laugh, Bokuto continues. “How long has this been going on?”

The laughter falters and Kuroo swallows, biting his lower lip before responding.

“Since high school. I thought I was over it until I saw him at the bar that first night.”

Bokuto nods, then leans back in his chair, arms crossed over a puffed chest. His tone is serious now as he speaks, eyes narrowed: “what are your intentions with my son?”

“Ugh. C’mon, bro…” Kuroo whines and restrains himself from face planting into the table. Instead, he settles for dragging a hand down his face before it combs through his hair.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bokuto laughs while dropping his arms and deflating the persona he tried to build up. “But for real, what is it about Akaashi that you like so much? I mean, from firsthand experience, I know how great he is, but what is it that  _ you _ like about him -  _ have _ liked about him?”

Kuroo hesitates, fingers reaching out to squeeze the mug sitting before him on the table. 

_ Why is he still nervous? _ Is he afraid of being made fun of by  _ Bokuto  _ of all people? Finding that silly, he pushes the thought out and sighs. The hardest part is already over, and was well-received at that.

“Well… For starters, he’s smart,” to which Bokuto nods in agreement, “he’s snarky,” another nod, “we have the same sense of humor, so that means he’s  _ funny _ . Plus, he’s really…” a pause, “...pretty.”

That earns another laugh from Bokuto who nods in agreement with an additional, “Yeah, everyone used to think the same back in high school until he opened his mouth. Apparently there’s only so much being pretty can do for you when everyone thinks you’re ‘weird.’”

“Plus, Kenma likes him,” Kuroo continues, allowing the words to flow out of him with a growing comfort. “It’s always easier when your best friend is a fan of the person you’re into… wait, I better not be climbing myself into a hole by saying that,” he realizes as his gaze lifts to meet Bokuto’s who snorts a laugh.

“You really gotta think about whether I like you or not? Dude, come on.”

“Don’t ‘ _ dude, come on _ ’ me,” Kuroo groans as he presses his face into the palms of his hands. How the creases of his palms haven’t embedded themselves into his face by now is beyond him.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Bokuto offers, sipping his cocoa.

“You say that like it’s easy.” Kuroo’s retort is muffled behind his hands, and after a moment he eventually drops them to glare at Bokuto with a wrinkled nose.

“That’s because it is,” Bokuto continues. “Akaashi’s always been a straightforward kind of guy, so he’d probably appreciate it if you were straightforward with him as well.” 

Then, Bokuto hesitates as he sets his mug down and hums in concentration.

His brows are pinched together, and it’s a look Kuroo isn’t familiar with. Confusion? Frustration? Dejection? No, not that… his grand displays of his depressive episodes were enough to reach the eyes and ears of entire gymnasiums of individuals. This is much, much less than that. Plus, he’s confident Bokuto had given an equally grand admission that he wouldn’t fall so low as to drop into Mopey-Mode any more.

Finally, as Kuroo is mulling through his mental Bokuto-expression catalogue, Bokuto speaks.

“It’s not really my place to tell you, but the bare bones of it is that he tends to overthink a lot. Like…  _ a lot _ a lot. I’m sure you’ve noticed back in highschool. He’s gotten better about it, or at least hides it better since then. Chances are, if you’ve been trying to flirt with him this entire time, he’s been overthinking it and spinning it into something bad. Or maybe not necessarily  _ bad _ , but definitely something unfavorable. And there’s another chance that he hasn’t even noticed. It’s honestly probably best if you just  _ told  _ him, y’know?”

Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek. He always knew Bokuto to be reliable, but has he always been this  _ logical _ ? For a brief moment, the thought of ‘ _ this feels like talking to Kenma all over again _ ’ crosses his mind and he shakes it away.

“I guess you have a point,” he finally mutters with a sigh. “I just don’t know how or when. Or if he’ll even reciprocate these feelings I’m feeling. And like… Do I wanna be hurt like that? Sometimes it just feels as if bottling it up and keeping it to myself is easier than having my heart broken, and—“

Before Kuroo can finish his train of thought, Bokuto reaches out and flicks his forehead, to which Kuroo’s hand flies up to cover it with a gasp.

“Dude—“

“If you’re  _ thinking _ about how much it  _ could _ hurt, you’re just putting yourself through unnecessary pain. It’s not like Akaashi is insensit—  _ well _ … he  _ can _ be an asshole sometimes. But in cases like this, he’d probably talk it out with you in a respectable manner instead of being super blunt about it, especially if you’re this worked up over it.”

“I… I guess you have a point.”

“‘Course I do! He’s my best friend, after all! I know him like the back of my hand!” Bokuto exclaims, flourishing his hands in front of him as if to prove his point. They’re quickly drawn back towards his face, however, as he mutters a low “that wasn’t there this morning,” poking at a bruise with a wince.

Kuroo can’t help but laugh at that, grateful that the cafe has since emptied out to leave only them and another patron a few tables away, far enough that their antics are hopefully less bothersome.

“Alright, I’ll figure something out then. Thanks.”

“No problem! Why didn’t you just text me or call me about this? We could’ve talked it over a lot sooner if you had.”

It was something Kuroo had considered, but “I thought it was important enough that it deserved more than that. Plus, now don’t let this go to your already enlarged head,” -  _ hey! _ \- “but I respect you enough as a person and a friend to talk about it face-to-face.”

The warm smile that blooms across Bokuto’s lips is enough to melt away remaining nerves that clung to the inner lining of Kuroo’s stomach. A light and airy feeling overwhelms him as he nods in response to Bokuto’s “Well, thanks for the consideration.”

As the brunt of the conversation finally discipates, Kuroo turns back to his coffee, pleased to sip it and add to the warmth building inside him.

A moment later, Bokuto raises a brow as his gaze lingers over the gloves folded atop the table. Without asking permission, he reaches over and snags one, turning it over in his hands. Kuroo’s brow mirrors Bokuto’s own when Bokuto looks up to meet his eyes with a smirk tugging the corner of his lip upwards.

“... Akaashi let you borrow these, huh?” he questions, and Kuroo can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“I— How did you know that?”

Bokuto turns the cuff of the glove inside out to reveal an embroidered ‘K’ on the inner lining, stitching the same color as the glove itself, so Kuroo hadn’t noticed it before. “Now, I highly doubt that you, Kuroo Tetsuro, my best bro, are the type to have your gloves labeled like this… In the exact same design I remember Akaashi using in high school no less.”

Kuroo’s jaw hangs open as he tries manifesting words that die at the tip of his tongue. It opens and closes a few times, and while doing so, he can feel the crests of his cheeks beginning to heat up.

With a boisterous laugh, Bokuto sets the glove back atop the other, patting it flat before drawing his hands away in order to wrap them around his mug of cocoa once more. He lifts it to his lips and takes a sip, waggling his eyebrows at Kuroo as he does so.

Eventually -  _ finally _ \- Kuroo manages a scoff to break his own silence as he, too, lifts his mug to take a sip of his coffee.

Then quietly, from across the table, Bokuto hums out, “And the nice gloves, too.”

Kuroo sputters and quickly sets his mug back down to wipe the dribble from his chin with the back of his hand. That earns another laugh from Bokuto who reaches over and firmly pats Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Just because you’re my best bro,” he starts matter-of-factly, “doesn’t mean I’m going to let up teasing you for having a crush on my best friend.”

Kuroo lets out a quiet and sarcastic ‘ _ great _ ’ with a roll of the eyes. Bokuto, pleased with himself, finishes off the rest of his cocoa in one go, dramatically gasping once he lowers the mug from his lips.

At that, they sit in a comfortable silence for a moment as Kuroo finishes his coffee. He briefly watches Bokuto go through his Instagram feed, mindlessly double-tapping posts here and there as he scrolls past them. A few posts later, Kuroo notices Bokuto stops on one post in particular, and as he tries to figure out what it could possibly be from upside down, Bokuto is peering at Kuroo through squinted eyes. 

A feeling of unease washes over Kuroo, and his eyes finally meet Bokuto’s.

“What—?”

Bokuto turns his phone around and scoots it across the tabletop. On the screen, Kuroo notices the first photo he took with Akaashi from back at the bar with Kozume, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi. It seems as if Akaashi had posted it within the hour he’d been conversing with Bokuto. There’s no caption; just a symbol in the corner indicating people (presumably the aforementioned) are tagged in it, and yet, a wave of nostalgia-esque feelings crashes down atop him, replacing the previous sense of dread. What was only a couple weeks ago already feels like an eternity in the past, and it forces a smile to his lips.

“You guys have been looking pretty friendly in the pictures I’ve seen him post. If you’re worried about him not liking you back, even if only a little, I think it’s safe to say… don’t.”

Kuroo huffs a laugh as Bokuto reclaims his phone, watching him like the photo and quickly type a comment in response. Kuroo opts to ignore the way his phone pings the second Bokuto hits send, and instead grabs both of their now empty mugs to return to the front counter where a rather bored-looking barista graciously accepts them and takes them away to wash.

When Kuroo turns to return to the table, Bokuto’s eyes are on him; they lock, and Bokuto remains unblinking as Kuroo approaches the table and reclaims his seat. Bokuto’s gaze continues to linger, issuing a raised brow from Kuroo in response.

Just as he’s about to open his mouth to ask what’s up, Bokuto cuts him off.

“Y’know, just because you’re both my best friends doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on either of you. If you hurt him in any way, I’ll… well, I won’t fight you or anything like that, but I  _ will _ get  _ very _ upset. Same goes for him,” he says with a confident nod of the head, leaning back in his seat now with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“We’re not— I haven’t even  _ told _ him I like him yet,” Kuroo retaliates, mirroring Bokuto’s crossed arms as he, too, leans back against his chair. “Though I’m sure Kenma would kick my ass if I ever did anything stupid, too. What’s with you guys ganging up on me, huh?”

“Hey, hey! I said  _ if _ you hurt him! And I said I’d do the same if he hurt you!” Bokuto laughs and leans forward again, elbows on the table as he props his chin against his palms. “So, you gonna tell him this weekend when we’re together or what?”

Kuroo can only roll his eyes and scoff at Bokuto’s persistence. Teasingly large eyes stare through to his core, and though Kuroo has held many a staring contests with Bokuto in the past, he opts out of this one with another, softer, scoff as the tips of his ears begin to burn.

“We’ll see,” he mutters eventually, closing his eyes in disbelief the second he catches Bokuto shooting his arms victoriously into the air with a whoop. The blood is pounding loud enough in his ears that he can hardly make out the way Bokuto responds by saying that ‘a  _ we’ll see  _ is essentially a  _ yes _ .’

“Don’t worry, bro! I’ll help out as best I can!” he reassures, pointing his thumb into his chest with a confident smile as Kuroo looks back in his direction.

“Oh? And what could you possibly have up your sleeve?”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it! I’ll text you later with the details! But I have a date with my sisters soon since they’re also both in Tokyo for the weekend! We’re taking mom out for dinner later, so I can’t be late,” he nods with certainty as he abruptly stands from the table, clattering the small decor pieces atop, fully aware he’s giving Kuroo no room to speak up on the matter.

Just as Kuroo finishes realigning the decorations, he stands with a huff and slips his jacket back on as Bokuto is headed towards the door, having already adorned his.

“You better not have anything crazy in mind,” Kuroo finally retaliates as they step out into the cold.

“Don’t you trust me?” Bokuto’s eyes hold Kuroo’s own with an earnest expression Kuroo hasn’t seen since they stood across from one another on the court, each hoping to carry their respective teams through the Tokyo qualifiers to head to Nationals.

Kuroo bites the inside of his cheek, a warmth swelling in his chest that releases with an exhale through his nose.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course I do… Just don’t —  _ I don’t know _ — don’t go out of your way or anything like th-”

Before he can finish his sentence, Bokuto already has his arms slung around him in a tight embrace, effectively knocking the wind out of Kuroo’s lungs.

“It’ll be fine,” Bokuto says, quieter, now holding Kuroo at arms length with a bright, toothy grin of reassurance that melts away any residual paranoia that may have started to creep back into Kuroo’s mind. “Plus, if he turns you down, you still have me.”

Kuroo can’t help but laugh at the eyebrow wiggle Bokuto gives him, and playfully punches his shoulder. They part with an exchange of ‘ _ get home safe _ ’ that further aids in putting Kuroo at ease as he turns and heads towards the station.

***

Kuroo feels renewed as he saunters through the front door of his apartment. He feels as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders now that he has expressed his feelings for Akaashi to Bokuto. All-in-all, it was a constructive conversation that left him feeling nearly weightless; though he found himself frequently having to ground himself as he wasn’t out of the woods just yet.

It’s as he stands in the entryway, aligning his shoes before stepping into the hall, that he realizes he hasn’t reached out to or heard from Akaashi in a few days.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket and unlocks it. As he swipes the screen and taps open the messaging app, an unfamiliar jitter of nerves tingles throughout his entire body. They only amplify as he scrolls down the list of open message threads to find Akaashi’s. His facade of renewal and confidence quickly comes crumbling down. His thumb hovers over the screen before pressing down.

After their movie night, they only exchanged a couple of pleasantries - wishing each other good luck throughout their respective days spent studying, a brief goodnight sent from Kuroo’s end that Akaashi had left on read - and then silence ever since. Though, as Bokuto had pointed out and Kuroo soon after realized as he checked his own notifications, Akaashi had, in fact, posted to Instagram just a few hours prior.

Taking that as the mental  _ go-ahead _ he needed, Kuroo pushes his nerves aside and quickly composes a text, hitting send before the nerves can come crashing back through his chest, dropping to his feet and anchoring him to the floor.

***

A gentle buzz drags Akaashi’s attention away from the novel he had allowed himself to become engrossed in as he had finished studying for the day. Reaching over to retrieve his phone from his nightstand, he watches as Kuroo’s name fades from the screen. A second later, his eyes are squinting down at the text bubble that has since popped up at the bottom of their thread.

**_Kuroo_ ** : Hey! Just wanted to see how my hoodie’s been treating you lately.  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

A soft noise escapes Akaashi’s lips as his gaze continues downward to the expanse of red fabric covering his torso. They linger there for a moment before returning to his phone, and as he rereads the message once, twice more, he can feel the tips of his ears beginning to heat up as he considers the optimal approach to answering, or rather,  _ entertaining _ such a request.

A finger begins to tap across the spine of his book that he has since rested upon his chest, and it’s with that motion that a thought comes to mind.

***

After Kuroo has settled at his kitchen table, nibbling on some pickled radishes to satiate his desire to do  _ something _ , and definitely  _ not _ his nerves, he hears his phone ping with a notification from where it lies face down on the table. His eyes narrow as his hand inches towards it, fingers curling around the case with a hesitance. Figuring it could be anyone in the world, even the Emperor of Japan for all he knows, he flips the phone over and tentatively taps the home button. A notification displaying Akaashi’s name stares back at him from the home screen, and he swallows, throat burning as a radish slice slides down nearly in full.

His initial text was a teasing way for him to break the metaphorical ice that had since built up during their silence. If anything, he expected no response thrown back his way, but now that he has obtained one, he figures it to be deadpan at best. Having convinced himself that it’s fine, he opens the message and feels his entire body run cold before feeling like someone had broken into his apartment and cranked the heater for his air-con up as high as it would go.

It’s a good thing his phone is already on the table, because he’s positive his hands would have failed him otherwise.

Presented to him is a selfie from the neck down.

Kuroo’s hoodie.

The faded white lettering is partially obscured by a book resting open against Akaashi’s chest. His hand rests atop it, lower fingers curled against the spine while his index and middle fingers spread out in a peace sign across the back, thumb resting on the cover.

It takes him a full minute to realize there is a message attached that reads:

**_Akaashi_ ** : It does it’s job.

Kuroo sits dumbfounded, hands atop his thighs, fingers curled so tightly into his palms that their nails leave crescent-shaped indents against toughened skin.

As he sits, he thinks.

He thinks, first:  _ What? _

He thinks, next:  _ Wow _ .

He thinks, finally:  _ This was the best idea I’ve ever had. _

***

**_Kuroo_ ** : so what’s your plan for tomorrow?

**_Bokuto_ ** : I have an idea, just trust me I’ll text you later

**_Kuroo_ ** : that’s not foreboding or anything

**_Bokuto_ ** : no idea what that means, but just trust me!

**_Kuroo_ ** : you’ve told me to just “trust you” at least three times now, I’m beginning to worry

**_Bokuto_ ** : ゜+.(。´>艸<)*

**_Kuroo_ ** : okay, yeah… I definitely can’t trust that

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so touched to know there are over 30 of you waiting for updates on this! I’m also sorry it’s been taking me so long to get them out. School and life have been stressing me out, and all I’ve done the past 3 months has been doomscrolling on Twitter. :’) As always, thank you for reading; I hope you enjoy!! Feel free to cry with me over kuroaka, bokuaka, and now osaaka ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt)!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry in advance for how long this got.

As Akaashi stands in front of one of the several Lawson convenience stores scattered throughout the area with his hands curled into fists in his jacket pockets and nothing more than a text on his phone that states to meet up at this specific site east of the Shinjuku station, he can’t help but wonder _what the hell does Bokuto-san have planned for tonight?_

He racked his brain all night trying to come up with some semblance of an idea as to what Bokuto may have up his sleeve; needless to say, he ended up losing quite a bit of sleep if the yawn he tries and fails to muffle is any indication of his current tired state.

A voice draws his attention away from the hole he had been mentally drilling through the pavement beneath his feet. When he looks up, he watches as Kuroo comes to a stop a foot or so away from him. The corner of his lip is quirked up in a subtle smile as a hand is withdrawn from his pocket to wave in greeting.

Akaashi nods in response, eyes lingering towards the hand making its descent back into Kuroo’s pocket as he turns to lean against the side of the building next to Akaashi. At the now close proximity, Akaashi can feel the heat radiating from Kuroo’s body intermingling with his own; it’s a welcome change from previously existing in a bubble of frozen solitude.

“I see you’re finally remembering to take better care of yourself and your hands,” Akaashi says, a subtle nod to the fact that the hand Kuroo flourished was once more covered by the soft fabric of his lent gloves.

Kuroo side eyes him before withdrawing his hands again, wiggling enclosed fingers out in the space before the two of them. “They ‘ _do their job,’_ ” he responds, a teasing lilt to his voice that causes Akaashi’s ears to heat up. He tuts softly in response, unimpressed at having his own words, used just the night prior to describe Kuroo’s hoodie he had been wearing, used against him.

Turning his head away as Kuroo moves to claim his phone from his pocket, he sighs and watches as a soft puff of air rises from his lips and dissipates before his eyes.

“You have any idea what Bokuto’s planning for tonight?” Kuroo asks after a moment, staring down at the last message received from the man in question, the same exact message Akaashi had been mulling over just a couple minutes prior.

“No. He kept changing the subject whenever I’d bring it up,” Akaashi replies as he turns back to eye down at Kuroo’s phone. He watches as the other types up a message asking where Bokuto is, that he and Akaashi are already at their meeting spot, and hits send.

At the same time, Akaashi feels his phone vibrate lightly against his fingers from where it’s nestled in his pocket, indicating that the message has gone through. The night prior, Bokuto had started a group thread between the three of them to make it easier to work up the plan… even if the plan was less of a plan and more of a surprise.

A few seconds later, there’s another vibrate, and instead of retrieving his own phone, Akaashi steals another glance at Kuroo’s.

**_Bokuto_ **: I’ll be there in about ten minutes, sorry!

They roll their eyes in unison as Kuroo pockets his phone with a huff, stepping away from the building and turning to look between the entrance and Akaashi.

“You hungry? We could get something light to eat since we still don’t know what we’re doing. Tide us over in case we won’t be eating for a while, but not enough if he plans on dinner or something,” he asks, mindful of the people bobbing around him on the sidewalk.

Akaashi nods in affirmation at the suggestion, following behind Kuroo through the automatic sliding doors. He squints as his eyes adjust to the bright overhead fluorescent lights and watches as Kuroo heads off to one side; Akaashi opts for the other when he sees a display of pre-wrapped onigiri.

After grabbing two tuna mayo onigiri from the top shelf, Akaashi rounds a corner into a neighboring aisle and grabs a small bag of seaweed flavored potato chips. Now satisfied with his haul, he peers around in an effort to find Kuroo. Briefly looking up and down the aisle he’s currently in, he catches movement from the aisle over, and notices the tips of Kuroo’s perpetual bedhead bouncing along the top of the shelves. Akaashi follows in their direction and meets up with the other at the end.

“You ready?” he asks, checking the time on his watch. Only two minutes have passed since stepping in, allowing them another eight at minimum if Bokuto is true to his word.

Before they approach the register, Kuroo extends a hand out and is met with a confused look from Akaashi.

“It was my idea to grab something to eat, so I’m paying. I’m not fighting you on this either, so don’t even try,” he says matter-of-factly and continues holding his hand in place until the onigiri and bag of chips Akaashi had taken to clutching to his chest in hesitation find their way into his hand.

As they step back outside after paying and reclaim their spots against the outer wall, Kuroo digs through the bag and hands Akaashi his food. Akaashi accepts them with a quiet ‘thank you,’ tucking one of the onigiri into a pocket, while the chips are squeezed into the other with his phone.

They eat their snacks, a small container of Karaage-kun fried chicken bites for Kuroo, in relative silence.

From the corner of his eye, Akaashi can see Kuroo’s head swiveling back and forth as he steps away from the wall. Without a word, he trudges over to a nearby vending machine and pulls his wallet from his back pocket.

Akaashi pays him no mind as he continues nibbling at his rice ball and watching the people pass by. His attention is brought back to his companion when a can of hot coffee is held before his vision.

Brows scrunched, Akaashi turns to give Kuroo a look that says “ _what’s this?_ ” as he silently chews a mouthful of rice and tuna.

“I wanted a coffee and it would’ve been rude of me to come back with just the one,” Kuroo says as he waits for Akaashi to take the can, placing his own in his pocket until he’s finished with his chicken.

“You should have said so, Kuroo-san. I would have been happy to pay since you took the liberty of paying for our food.”

Kuroo waves the hand not holding his container dismissively, and then mumbles around a mouthful of chicken, “It’s no big deal, Akaashi. Really.”

Akaashi murmurs another thanks as he crumples the now empty wrapping of his onigiri, retrieving the second from his pocket in order to set his coffee in it instead.

As he unwraps and bites down into rice he watches from the corner of his eye as Kuroo lifts a piece of chicken and pops it into his mouth. A sliver of steam escapes into the darkening sky around them as he chews, jostling his container slightly to displace some of the pieces that had stuck together.

“You know,” Akaashi says while clearing his throat and wiping a stray grain of rice from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “that sort of resembles you in a way.”

“Huh?” Kuroo hums and turns to look at Akaashi who has tilted his head to hold his gaze in turn. His eyes dart down to the container in his hands as Akaashi nods in its direction, causing Kuroo to raise a brow in question.

“From what I remember, Hinata used to be quite fond of calling you a “rooster-head” in high school, correct?”

Akaashi watches as Kuroo stares at the beady, black eyes of the cartoon rooster drawn on the outside of his paper container. Kuroo blinks… and then blinks again… and once more for good measure, then some sort of veil layers itself over Kuroo’s face. Akaashi is unable to read his expression beyond his now pursed lips, and instead of pushing further, takes a bite of onigiri.

After a moment, Kuroo finally retaliates.

“Wow, so that’s how it is, huh? I buy you food and this is how you repay me?” he taunts while raising his gaze to stare Akaashi dead in the eye, the corner of his lip twitching upwards into a smirk, one that Akaashi is _mirroring_ before hiding it behind another bite of onigiri. “You wound me, Akaashi, truly.”

“I wouldn’t call this repayment, Kuroo-san. I was simply stating a fact. I’ll buy you a drink later on to repay you for the food, however, so don’t you worry.”

They fall back into silence at that, and with his second onigiri now fully settling in his stomach, Akaashi tosses his wrappers in a nearby trash bin.

A light snowfall begins its descent from above, and Akaashi sniffles as a flake lands on the tip of his nose. He hears a soft chuckle from his side that renews the blush on his ears, but he doesn’t take the chance to see if Kuroo is looking. Instead, he reaches into his pocket to pull out his bag of chips.

Upon opening, he tilts the bag in Kuroo’s direction after the other reaches around him to dispose of his empty chicken container.

“Would you care for some chips, Kuroo-san? You did pay for them, after all.”

Kuroo obliges, and they take turns pawing their way through the bag until nothing more than crumbs reside at the bottom.

Just as Akaashi rejoins the chip bag with the empty wrappers in the trash bin, he hears a voice calling out to them from a few feet away. Looking up, his heart instantly swells as Bokuto comes jogging over, a smile stitched wide across his face.

Before Akaashi can properly greet him, he’s wrapped up tight in a bear hug that crushes the breath and ‘hello’ right out of him.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto exclaims, nearly lifting the aforementioned off his feet as he shakes him back and forth in his arms. “I’ve missed you so much! It feels like it’s been YEARS since I last saw you!”

Akaashi pats Bokuto’s back in a silent plea to be released, and now at arm’s length returns his blinding smile with a soft one of his own.

“I’ve missed you as well, Bokuto-san. And it’s only been a couple of months, plus I FaceTimed you last night, you don’t have to be so dramatic.”

“I know, I _know_ it hasn’t been that long, Akaashi. Which is why I said it _FEELS_ like it has,” he reiterates dramatically before looking past to Kuroo. “And Kuroo! It’s almost like I just saw you yesterday.”

In the middle of clasping hands and patting each other on the back, Kuroo asks what took Bokuto so long in meeting up with them.

“Oh!” he starts, mouth mirroring the sound that just escaped it, “As I was walking down the street, there was this pretty bad patch of ice outside one of the apartment complexes, and this little old lady looked like she would have broken every bone in her body if she slipped and fell on her way inside. I just made sure she got across without doing that.”

Bokuto stands with his fists on his hips, proud. Kuroo laughs, and Akaashi accompanies it with a muffled huff of laughter of his own.

“Yeah, that sounds like a pretty you thing to do,” Kuroo says, patting him on the shoulder. “So, are you finally going to tell us your big master plan for the night now that you’re here?”

Enthusiastically, Bokuto steps past both Kuroo and Akaashi and heads off down the street.

“Just follow me!” he calls over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

Akaashi exchanges a look with Kuroo before the two fall into step behind him.

As they walk, snow crunches lightly beneath their boots. In just the ten minutes they had spent waiting, more soft flakes had spiraled down from the sky above and began sticking to the sidewalk. Thankfully, it was a slow fall, so it poses no threat to their outing for the time being as it is still nothing more than a dusting on the pavement.

After a couple minutes of what feels like pointless wandering — Bokuto checking an open map on his phone every few seconds and leading the three of them around a corner and down an adjacent street with a ‘yeah, this way’ — Akaashi caves and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his coffee. It’s still warm to the touch, and a soft, satisfied sigh escapes his lips after he cracks the can open and takes a sip.

“You better drink yours as well, before we get to wherever it is we’re headed, Kuroo-san,” he states, lifting the can to his lips again to take a long swig.

“Yes, yes. You’re right, _mother_ ,” is Kuroo’s response as he, too, pulls out his own can to open and sip from.

“Thank you again, by the way. I appreciate your consideration. It was a good idea on your part, especially since it’s started snowing.”

“Like I said,” Kuroo takes a sip, “It was no big deal.”

As their brief exchange comes to an end, Akaashi notices that Bokuto has taken to peering at them over his shoulder, pointedly looking at Kuroo with what seems to be a mischievous glint in his eyes that Akaashi can’t quite figure out. When he returns his gaze with an arched brow, Kuroo is squinting back at Bokuto, hiding the lower half of his face behind his can.

However, from his position beside him, Akaashi can make out a subtle splotch of red coloring the crests of Kuroo’s cheeks.

One corner of Akaashi’s lips begins to twitch.

“Would you care for my scarf, Kuroo-san?” Akaashi asks, lowering his can and quickly stifling his laughter by biting the inside of his cheek when Kuroo sputters and dribbles coffee down his chin. He watches it drip down and taint the fresh, white snow at their feet brown.

“Huh, why would you ask that?” Kuroo says, eyes still narrowed, this time at Akaashi instead of Bokuto, who has come to a stop, forcing the two behind to do the same.

“You look a little cold is all. Your cheeks are getting red,” Akaashi points out, fingers wrapping around one end of his scarf in preparation to tug it off.

“Oh, uh, I’m fine—”

Bokuto displays a grin that can only be described as _shit-eating_ as he cuts him off and eggs Akaashi on. “No, come on, Kuroo! I can’t have you getting sick on me or anything. We’ve got the rest of the night ahead of us! Plus your cheeks are only getting more red, you must be _freezing_.”

Akaashi hears Kuroo grumble a profanity, hears Bokuto laugh, and as they continue walking, all he can think is: _Oh._

Something in his chest swells and squeezes as he extends his hand forward and watches Kuroo take the scarf. As Kuroo wraps it around his neck and buries the lower half of his face in it, Akaashi is reminded of the feeling he experienced the day after he reunited with him at the bar, where they walked through the park catching up.

It was a weight that had settled low in his stomach, a feeling of which he had no words at the time to describe it besides ‘ _uncomfortable_ ’ and ‘ _heavy_.’

It was a weight that bubbled up over countless texts exchanged throughout the passing days. Bubbles that turned to butterflies with each emoticon that popped up alongside a ‘ _Good luck, today!_ ’ message sent early in the morning, and a ‘ _Hope everything went well!_ ’ sent at night.

It was a weight that raised itself from his stomach and needled at his heart when he had caught Kozume’s stream and Kuroo had off-handedly admitted to liking someone — someone that Kozume admitted to knowing as well.

It was a weight that turned from bubbles and butterflies into a boulder that dropped back into his stomach at the thought of Kuroo liking someone. Said boulder sat in his stomach, immobilizing him for hours, nauseating him for seemingly unknown reasons.

At least, he _thought_ they were unknown. He talked himself into believing that the uncomfortable heaviness he felt after his initial outing was nothing more than a renewed fondness for something old; afterall, reconnecting with someone who was more of an acquaintance — a _friend’s_ friend — after years was grounds enough to be anxiety inducing… that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Then, Kuroo was at his apartment, and he was at Kuroo’s. They were spending more time together.

They were connecting.

A _friend’s_ friend quickly, much more quickly than he would’ve expected, became _his_ friend.

Kuroo’s old hoodie joined his closet, and in the days after receiving it, not one had passed where it wasn’t the first thing he pulled on after a long day of classes. With that hoodie came a second boulder, dropping heavily atop the first.

 _‘You better not be using this as an excuse to come visit again, Kuroo-san_.’

‘ _And what if I am?_ ’

It was both boulders that piqued his curiosity and inner turmoil as he sent Kuroo a selfie just last night, showing off the fact that he had taken comfort in the gifted red hoodie. 

That piqued curiosity is what slowly began to chip away at the boulders, and throughout the remainder of the night, he could feel them cracking little by little.

It was a weight becoming weightless.

And now, it’s Kuroo standing beside him wrapped in his scarf _and_ his gloves… Kuroo who had just bought his food and offered him a coffee without asking if he wanted one beforehand… Kuroo who had weaseled his way back into his life after Akaashi had thought he lost him.

Akaashi goes through the motions.

Akaashi _walks_ ; snow crunches beneath his boots.

Akaashi _stops_ , as Bokuto does the same before him.

Kuroo extends a hand to take Akaashi’s empty coffee can, which he had crushed in his grip upon finishing, to drop in a nearby recycling bin — Akaashi _blinks_ as the quiet _tink_ of cans hits the bottom of the bin.

Kuroo shoots him a smile before ushering him through the entrance first to… wherever it is they’ve ended up, Akaashi _realizes_ he hadn’t been paying attention to even notice.

Akaashi _thinks_...

_Oh._

The chipped pieces of boulder sprout wings and flutter to life in his stomach, crashing into one another as they take flight.

“A-ha! We’re here!” Bokuto declares while pumping both fists into the air, turning to beam at his two best friends.

 _...I really_ do _think I like Kuroo-san…_

...

_What a predicament._

***

Kuroo unravels the scarf from his neck and slips his jacket off in the lobby of the karaoke box, glancing around as Bokuto speaks to the receptionist at the front desk. Beside him, Akaashi is doing the same.

Bokuto ushers them forward to choose starting drinks from the provided menu. Once their orders are placed, Bokuto, three microphones in hand, leads them away and down an adjacent hall filled with the sounds of muted singing from neighboring rooms, towards one in the back.

“Karaoke, huh?” Kuroo muses as they take turns stepping inside, layering their jackets and various other winter accessories across a ledge behind the wall-length couch.

“Yeah, I thought it would be fun!” Bokuto says as he plops down in the center of the couch and immediately grabs the food menu set beside the tablet on the table. “It’s only about another five minute walk from where I plan on taking you guys next, so I figured we could pre-game and loosen up here before that!”

Akaashi takes a seat beside Bokuto on the far end of the couch, leaving the space nearest Kuroo free. As Kuroo sits down and pulls the tablet closer to him on the table to start clicking through various menus, Akaashi speaks up.

“What exactly do you have in mind for afterwards if you want to “pre-game” and “loosen up” here, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto snickers before setting the open menu down and tapping his fingers against it in delight. “Can’t tell you that, Akaashi! You’ll just have to keep trusting me.”

At that, Akaashi sighs and wiggles the menu from beneath Bokuto’s palms to look at instead. “Well, I already would have never guessed _this,_ so I suppose I don’t have any idea what could possibly be coming next... “

“Just—” Bokuto starts, only to be cut off by Kuroo.

“Trust you. We know, we know,” he teases and slaps Bokuto’s hand away when the other reaches over to punch his arm. “I’ve honestly lost count of how many times you’ve told me to trust you by this point.”

“Anyway! I reserved the room for an hour and we can extend it later if we want, so let’s get started!” Bokuto retorts by clapping his hands together.

Their drinks arrive a minute later, and the three thank the server before it’s Kuroo’s turn to steal the menu as Akaashi folds it back up and sets it down. As he considers between french fries to compliment the chicken bites he had earlier, and a small, personal pizza, Bokuto grabs hold of the tablet and starts typing the name of a song into the search bar.

“Oh? Know what you’re starting us off with, Bokuto?” Kuroo asks, finally deciding on fries as he folds the menu and sets it on the table. He leans back into the couch and draws his leg up to cross his ankle over his knee.

“Sure do,” is Bokuto’s reply as he hits the reserve button on the tablet and watches as it starts loading on the television in the corner of the room, “a~and, you’re gonna join me!”

A microphone is presented in front of Kuroo’s face as Bokuto waggles his eyebrows in challenge.

Kuroo looks back and forth between the microphone, the loading screen, and Bokuto before narrowing his eyes and snatching the mic from his hand.

“Tell me what you’re getting and I’ll put the order in while you two start,” Akaashi offers, already standing and maneuvering his way around the table to the phone hanging on the wall near the door to ring reception.

The two comply, just in time for Bokuto’s [ song ](https://youtu.be/eK0HHREDe4Y) choice to finally start playing.

It’s a tune Kuroo is familiar with, one reminiscent of his youth, and as Bokuto takes the lead, he yelps “Oh I am _not_ being the girl!”

Bokuto is undeterred, turning and serenading Kuroo who is glaring daggers back. He hears a rather soft chuckle from the doorway as Akaashi hangs up the phone and ducks beneath the television and around the table to reclaim his seat.

Just as he does so, the thought of that chuckle ricochets through Kuroo’s head and he drops his voice low, lower than normal, and picks up where Bokuto’s part had left off. It’s a move that causes Bokuto to laugh out a “aw, c’mon dude! Play along!”

It feels like the longest near three minutes of his life, but eventually the song comes to close, and as the graphic on the television fades, Kuroo pulls Bokuto into a headlock and ruffles his hair.

“Quite the interesting choice to start off the night, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says as Bokuto pulls himself from Kuroo’s grip, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair to get it back in place.

“My mom wanted to watch it together last night with my sisters after dinner since it’s her favourite Disney movie. It’s been stuck in my head all day, so I figured no better way to get it unstuck than force Kuroo to sing it with me!”

Akaashi lets out another gentle laugh as Bokuto dodges Kuroo’s hands, pulling the tablet across the table to sit in front of Kuroo. As Kuroo brings it close to his chest to hide the screen, Akaashi leans forward to grab his drink - a bottle of beer from beside Bokuto’s fruity cocktail - and takes a sip.

Bokuto strikes up a side conversation with Akaashi as Kuroo swipes through the song list; it’s less one-sided than it used to be, he realizes as he listens, with a ghost of a smile continuing to grow on Akaashi’s lips as he responds. Kuroo catches it as he lifts his gaze from the tablet and feels his heart constrict when the corners of Akaashi’s eyes crinkle when Bokuto makes some stupid joke Kuroo hadn’t caught.

He swallows, quickly grabbing his own beer from the table and taking a swig to keep his mouth from running dry. When he sets it down, a little too forcefully to the point it catches both Bokuto and Akaashi’s attention and brings their conversation to a halt, Kuroo clears his throat and sets the tablet beside it after queueing up a song.

He grabs his microphone and waves Bokuto’s in front of his face as well, a Cheshire cat-like grin splitting across his face.

“Now it’s your turn to join _me_ ,” he laughs as Bokuto grabs the mic with a huff, and with that, Kuroo looks behind Bokuto at Akaashi who startles at the glance and leans back into the couch cushion. “Get your mic ready as well, Akaashi,” he drawls,”You’ll be joining us, too. Don’t worry though, you’ll have the shortest part.” 

His closing remark is meant to be comforting, as Akaashi looks incredibly out of place, and Kuroo notices the way Akaashi’s free hand rubs at the ghost-white knuckles of fingers gripping his mic.

When the [ song ](https://youtu.be/HEa_1Kz2SG0) finally queues up, Kuroo clears his throat again to draw attention back to himself and straightens up in his seat. This time, he takes the lead and Bokuto knows to follow.

The further into the song they get, the more Kuroo’s parts become garbled and riddled with laughter as Bokuto dramatically leans into him as he sings.

As they fall into a fit of laughter, there’s a short pause in their singing… where Akaashi’s timid voice fills with his own. Kuroo’s heart thumps at the sound. It’s nothing more than monotone with a barely-there hint of enthusiasm - at which Kuoo joins in as the on-screen text pops up with his defining color - but it’s enough for Bokuto to swing an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders in delight and energetically picks up his part where Akaashi’s leaves off.

An instrumental break comes where Bokuto fills the absence with improvised humming to match the tune in the background. Kuroo is amazed by his ability to create an entire performance out of nothing, and as he sits and waits for his part to start again, he reaches for his beer to take another sip.

He sets it back down and guides the three of them into their final verse, taking the lead while Bokuto and a reluctant Akaashi fill in the backing vocals. He continues alongside Bokuto, shimmying and bobbing their shoulders in unison while laughing out nonsensical lyrics as the song fades into nothing and the television screen fades as well.

Bokuto claps, because _of course_ Bokuto does, and pats both Kuroo and Akaashi’s shoulders simultaneously as Akaashi replaces the mic in his hand with his beer.

“Not too bad, Akaashi,” Bokuto says as Akaashi leans back and somewhat away from him into the couch, “Next time give it a little more effort though, yeah? Have some fun!”

“Singing isn’t really my thing, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s voice is muffled around the mouth of his bottle, tilting it backwards to chug the rest of it in one go. Both Bokuto and Kuroo watch wide-eyed as Akaashi lowers it with a sigh, pushing his glasses back in place on his nose as he sets the now empty bottle on the table. “However, if you really expect me to, I’m going to need at least two more of those.”

Bokuto whoops in triumph, tripping over Kuroo’s legs as he bolts from the couch to the phone, ordering two more beers for Akaashi and a second for Kuroo.

With Bokuto up, Kuroo’s eyes are on Akaashi who, knees on elbows so his arms are reaching over the table, is mindlessly wringing his fingers around the neck of his bottle. He watches for a moment before finding his voice.

“Y’know, if you don’t want to sing, you don’t need to,” he offers and Akaashi looks up, holds his gaze for a second before his eyes drift towards Bokuto who is smiling giddily into the phone.

“It may not make me the most comfortable, but it’s nice to see him happy like this, so it’s fine,” Akaashi murmurs, bringing his gaze back to his handiwork. “Plus, it’s not like I get to see him all that often, it’s the least I can do. It’s not the end of the world.”

Kuroo hums quietly in response, moving his legs aside this time as Bokuto makes his way back and drops into the empty space between them, still grinning.

“They say they’ll bring them with the rest of our food which should be in about five minutes,” he states, grabbing the tablet from the table. “So, how about I entertain you both until then.”

He hops up from the couch and around the table as his chosen [ song ](https://youtu.be/yzC4hFK5P3g) loads up, and Bokuto shoots them both a wink over his shoulder, index finger to his mouth as his foot pops up in what he calls his “ _cute beam_.”

And _oh_ , entertain he does. Akaashi has his head in his hands, having given up a mere minute in when Bokuto started framing his face and tapping his feet.

Kuroo, however, has his phone out and is biting the cuff of his sweater to keep from laughing as he records Bokuto’s performance. When Bokuto notices, he shoots him another wink and cranks his performance up from one-hundred percent to one-twenty.

Kuroo has never seen a grown man pat his own ass more than Bokuto does in the four minutes he stands before them, and he makes sure to voice his concern as he pounds the rest of his beer, grateful when there’s a gentle tapping at the door to signal the arrival of their food and _another beer, because he’s going to need it._

As they settle down and focus on the food now in front of them, Bokuto gives Akaashi a dramatic retelling of the story he told Kuroo yesterday about whatever it was Atsumu Miya had done during the day prior’s practice. Unline Kuroo, who at the time had been lost in his own head, Akaashi is solely invested in the story, nodding along and giving additional comments where applicable during Bokuto’s pauses.

It’s endearing to watch, and while Bokuto turns to include him in the conversation every now and again, Kuroo has no complaints about sitting back with his plate of fries and watching two best friends reconnect after months apart.

When his plate is empty, he takes his second beer in one hand and pulls the tablet close with the other. Bokuto is too engrossed in his conversation to comment, but Kuroo notices the way Akaashi’s eyes momentarily flicker in his direction at the sudden movement. It doesn’t last long before Akaashi’s attention is back on Bokuto, the corners of his lips loosening more and more as he finishes his beer.

After spending a couple minutes scrolling through the popular international hits song section, Kuroo drums his fingers on the table before standing up and making his way towards the door. From over his shoulder, he can hear Bokuto asking where he’s going, to which he responds by raising a finger telling him to wait as he closes the door behind him.

He returns a few minutes later with one of the rentable mic stands from the reception area that he places near the television and picks his mic up from the table. After securing the mic into the mount, he adjusts the clutch to raise the height to better suit his own. He jerks his head in the direction of the tablet, calling for Bokuto to start the [ song ](https://youtu.be/KrZHPOeOxQQ) he has ready on the screen.

As it loads and begins to play, he suppresses a chuckle as Bokuto is already hooting in excitement, hyping him up with an “oh, _hell yeah,_ dude!”

In the space between the intro line and the first verse, he watches as Bokuto headbangs on the couch, jostling Akaashi with him in the process; though now that Akaashi is on his third beer, Kuroo can see the crinkles starting to form at the corners of his eyes again as Bokuto throws an arm around his shoulder, effectively getting Akaashi to vibe with him.

With his progression through the song — voice shifting between low and sultry, and high and powerful — so progresses Bokuto’s enthusiasm. Somewhere between the chorus and second verse, Bokuto gets up from the couch and nudges the table out of the way so he can dance in circles around Kuroo. Their backs lean into one another as they air guitar the guitar solo, and when the final chorus starts, Bokuto is standing in front of Akaashi, holding his wrists like a ragdoll, getting him to clap to the beat and doing so until Akaashi continues the motion on his own.

Kuroo’s chest swells with warmth as the three clap in unison until Bokuto breaks off to rejoin Akaashi on the couch. He mimics the drums where applicable, and Akaashi leans against his shoulder laughing into the back of his hand. They both clap when Kuroo finishes, Bokuto cheers, and when Kuroo makes to sit down, Bokuto holds up a finger while grabbing the tablet.

As Kuroo stands there, mic in hand now and tapping his foot in confusion and impatience, he watches the way Akaashi continues to lean into Bokuto. 

“I didn’t realize you spoke English that well, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi says, easing the light tension growing around Kuroo’s aura as he stands in the spotlight, waiting.

“Singing is different from speaking, it’s easier,” he implies after a brief moment of consideration, and Akaashi nods in understanding.

“Nevertheless, it is still rather impressive.”

As Akaashi’s focus turns back to Bokuto and the tablet, Kuroo notes the soft smile that continues to linger on his lips as he nurses his beer, fingers absentmindedly running up and down the length of the bottle's neck as it’s settled in his lap. A feeling of tenderness and endearment washes over Kuroo again as he allows himself to smile at the sight; the tapping of his foot comes to a halt as Akaashi giggles at whatever it is Bokuto is typing.

If his heart melts a little bit at the sound, dripping down to pool at his feet, neither of them are paying any attention to notice.

Though he does issue a raised brow when Akaashi reaches across to point at something on screen, Bokuto mutters something indiscernible in response, and Akaashi nods.

Kuroo is pulled from his thoughts as Bokuto interrupts with an “Alright, you ready?”

“What if I don’t know whatever it is you two have plotted over there?” Kuroo questions, teasing glare snapping back and forth between Bokuto and Akaashi, both of whom are chuckling now as the song loads up. 

“Oh, you’ll know it… At least from what I’ve been told,” Bokuto nods while elbowing Akaashi, which in turn causes Akaashi to fluster and push up his slipping glasses in an attempt to hide his face.

Kuroo returns his attention back to the television when the [ song ](https://youtu.be/qp0AktOIAag) finally loads, and is instantly thrust back in time to the night he spent with Akaashi and Kozume; first studying, then eating, and finally watching a movie. He swallows, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind of the way Akaashi’s warmth had been pressed into him then nearly as close as he is with Bokuto at the present moment.

From what he can tell, Bokuto isn’t as confident with his knowledge of the song as he had been the past few, but is nodding along as Kuroo sings regardless. From his peripheral, though, he can tell that Akaashi’s foot is tapping in time with the fast beat. 

When he finally chances a look in his direction during the interlude, his heart just bursts from whe way Akaashi is looking at him.

He’s no longer tapping, but his gaze is soft, eyes lidded, and the corners of his lips are turned upwards the slightest bit. Nothing about it looks forced either, which is what causes the hairs on the back of Kuroo’s neck to stand on end. He looks content and _happy_. While the interlude carries on, Kuroo tears his eyes away from Akaashi, though the sensation of being watched lingers as he grabs his beer and finishes it off.

By the time the empty bottle settles back on the table, Kuroo returns to his mic and finishes the song with a newfound enthusiasm, voice strong and unwavering as it comes to an end. The final sentiment of the song rings loud in his ears, drowning out the way Bokuto claps as the screen fades — he won’t lose Akaashi again, even if he has to start from the beginning to find him.

While Bokuto continues to whoop and clap, Kuroo turns to give a dramatic bow, and when he straightens back up, Akaashi is lightly clapping as well.

Heart pounding, Kuroo finally makes his way to sit back down and accepts the weight of Bokuto’s large hand clapping his shoulder with a chuckle.

“Not bad, dude!” Bokuto exclaims before retracting his hand with a grin. “Akaashi told me about the movie and how he’s been listening to the soundtrack all week!”

“Oh?” Kuroo murmurs, a little breathless, looking past Bokuto at Akaashi who this time holds his gaze. “Well, if that’s the case, how come I was the one that had to sing it, huh? If you liked it so much, why not sing it yourself?”

Kuroo doesn’t miss the way the corner of Akaashi’s mouth twitches, and he especially doesn’t miss the way he says, “I just thought it would sound nice if you sang it, Kuroo-san. That’s all.”

And when Akaashi excuses himself to use the restroom, Kuroo _also_ doesn’t miss the way Bokuto’s head whips in his direction, eyes going comically wide as he faces him. Bokuto gives him a thumbs up — correction, _two_ thumbs up. Kuroo, however, sinks into the couch so that his head rests against the back cushion and brings his hands up to cover his burning face.

He feels Bokuto’s index fingers needling into his sides, forcing Kuroo to groan and reach down with one hand to swat them away.

“What,” Bokuto says, maneuvering around Kuroo’s fly-swatter hand to poke his side, “did,” his stomach, “I,” his shoulder, “tell you!” and finally his exposed cheek. With a smile split across his face, he levels his voice, poking Kuroo’s cheek once more, and Kuroo allows his other hand to drop and join the other in his lap. “You have nothing to worry about, dude.”

“You can’t be so sure of that,” Kuroo starts to retaliate with a hiss, but his rebuttal is cut off when Akaashi reenters the room. From where he’s seated, he can see a hint of red on Akaashi’s cheeks as he makes his way around the table to sit. Whether it be from his statement prior to leaving the room, or the beers he’d been consuming, or… something else, Kuroo doesn’t know. He instead tries to swing things back into his favor.

“Alright, so after being put on the spot, I think it’s finally Akaashi’s turn to sing for us,” he hums and bites back a smirk as Akaashi narrows his eyes at him. He may have previously made it clear that Akaashi didn’t have to if he weren’t comfortable with it, but the teasing since has buzzed under his skin along with the alcohol in his system and set him on fire; and so, he fires back.

“How about I sing with you, Akaashi?” Bokuto suggests, cutting off the ‘ _pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san_ ’ Akaashi mutters under his breath, tablet already in hand as he scrolls through a list of the current popular songs.

Kuroo can almost see the gears turning in Akaashi’s head, and straightens back up in triumph when Akaashi eventually agrees.

“It seems like we’ll only have time for one last song anyway unless we want to keep going,” Akaashi observes, checking the time on his watch, “So I suppose… one song won’t kill me.”

Bokuto beams as he queues up a song and sets the tablet on the table, standing and waiting for Akaashi to join him.

“You’ll know this one, too,” he says in a reassuring manner as Akaashi sighs, “We watched every episode on call together, so you at least _better_ .” He gives Akaashi a quick nudge to the ribs with his elbow as the [ song ](https://youtu.be/dSrrRaVyQHQ) begins.

Despite Akaashi’s confirmation that he would, in fact, sing with Bokuto, Kuroo is still shocked to not only see, but _hear_ the way Akaashi’s voice carries and intermingles with Bokuto’s as they begin in unison. As they stand side-by-side like this, Kuroo’s mind pictures them during camp and on the sidelines at nationals, watching over him play when they, themselves, weren’t playing or warming up. 

There was no Bokuto without Akaashi, and no Akaashi without Bokuto.

They were always as one.

Considering how much has changed since then, Kuroo finds it nice to know that not _everything_ has.

He crosses his legs and props his elbow on his knee in order to rest his palm in his chin as he watches the two men sing in front of him.

As the song progresses, Kuroo notices something that has been happening from the beginning — with every line, instead of getting pulled into the orbit that is Akaashi Keiji where he normally would find himself, Bokuto has been taking a tentative step back. To accompany this, Kuroo picks up on how Bokuto’s voice has been getting softer and softer. By the start of the second verse, he drops his hand completely to hold his mic by his side, and Akaashi is left singing alone, caught up in his own orbit.

Though he could distinguish between the two voices well enough as they merged together as one, it’s like a splash of cold water to the face when it’s _just_ Akaashi’s taking up every nook and cranny of Kuroo’s headspace.

Kuroo always knew Akaashi had a soft voice. Even when he was frustrated with Bokuto, he kept his voice level — firm, but never loud — and never raised it higher than necessary when calling out plays in the middle of a match. It was one of the attributes to what made Akaashi “ _pretty_ .” Akaashi’s _actual_ singing voice, not the monotone performance he had given earlier, is somehow higher than his normal speaking voice, while simultaneously softer… if that’s even _possible_ , Kuroo thinks. Every word he sings melts together like honey, gentle and smooth and _warm_ , and Kuroo wishes he had a glass of water to wash down the utter sweetness of it.

When Akaashi eventually notices Bokuto has stopped and Bokuto urges him to continue, Akaashi merely rolls his eyes and does.

Kuroo’s heart all but spirals straight into the ground.

Bokuto rejoins for the final chorus, arm flinging around Akaashi’s shoulders, and Akaashi’s arm finds itself wrapped around Bokuto’s in return.

When it ends, Bokuto wastes no time in singing Akaashi’s praises, and while Akaashi politely thanks him for complimenting his “awesome voice,” he catches Kuroo’s eye from over their shoulders where their arms are still hung and offers a small, shy smile before looking away.

...and so much for Kuroo’s heart not spiraling straight into the ground.

With only a few minutes left before their allotted hour expires, Akaashi takes the tablet and makes sure to sign them out of the room lest they be charged extra. They clear the table of their now empty disposable plates, shrug their jackets back on, and exit the room.

As they head down the hall towards the entrance, Kuroo fiddles with the scarf in his hands, unsure as to whether he should put it on or offer it back to Akaashi. The gloves he had been wearing are folded in his pockets as he finds himself hesitant to wear them as well. His thumb brushes over a fray in the fabric when Akaashi’s voice from beside him catches him off guard as they step outside.

“You better put that on, Kuroo-san. It’s only gotten colder with the sun down.”

His voice is still soft, though there’s a gentle hum that lingers at the end of his words, likely thanks to the three beers he had inhaled during the last hour. Kuroo watches as he zips his jacket up to tuck his chin into the collar as a gust of wind blows past them. His hands are tucked into his pockets as he offers a nod before trotting forward to catch up with Bokuto who is a few paces ahead.

To add onto the list of things Kuroo doesn’t miss, he doesn’t miss how devastatingly cute the red tip of Akaashi’s nose looked as the wind nipped at it.

Wrapping the scarf around his neck and using his long legs to rejoin the other two, Kuroo can only think one thing as he wills the beating of his heart to slow:

... _fuck_.

In an effort to distract himself from his own thoughts, he grabs the steering wheel to his racing mind and jerks it in the opposite direction.

“For that last song you two sang… In the anime, did either of you ever notice how that angry little Russian kid kind of sounded like Tsukki?”

***

As the trio traverses the district, at every other corner resides a busker either sitting atop a low stone wall or huddled beneath a shop awning, playing for the pedestrians passing by as snow gently falls around them. Surrounded by the twinkle of lights wrapped delicately around trunks of leaf-barren trees, Akaashi thinks it’s one of the most painstakingly beautiful moments of time he has ever found himself wandering through.

Despite the cold, the warmth of the two bracketing either side of him, alongside the alcohol buzzing just beneath his skin, Akaashi finds himself positively giddy. Or at least as giddy as the slight upward curve of his lip will give off.

It’s when a particular gust of wind unsettles an otherwise stationary flag, billowing it from the storefront just ahead of them, that Akaashi finally picks up on where they’ve ended up.

Watching the rainbow of color settle back down as they walk past, Akaashi spares a glance in Bokuto’s direction, who’s busy looking down at a map on his phone.

“Bokuto-san,” he starts, slowing his pace until their huddle comes to a halt. Bokuto’s gaze lifts to meet his eyes— Akaashi swears he sees them twinkle. “What are we doing here?”

‘ _Here_ ’ being the Ni-chome neighborhood in the Shinjuku district where they, now that Akaashi’s eyes turn to focus, are surrounded on either side by a variety of gay bars, clubs, and cafes.

Bokuto lifts a hand timidly to scratch at his cheek in a manner Akaashi has never witnessed him exhibit before.

From where they stopped in front of an alleyway, Akaashi can see and hear a couple of tourists making out just a few feet away. Blood rushing to his cheeks, Akaashi grabs both Bokuto and Kuroo by the forearm and drags them further down the street. The feeling that washes over him is sobering as he releases the two in tow and turns on a heel to look Bokuto squarely in the eye.

“Bokuto-san,” he repeats, arms coming up to cross over his chest.

Bokuto gives a chuckle in return, glancing between Akaashi, his phone, and the neon sign glowing behind the glass window pane of the club Akaashi had pulled them towards.

“Oh hey!” he trills, evading Akashi’s pointed glare while pocketing his phone and standing proudly before the entrance. “We’re here!”

Both Akaashi and Kuroo take a step back to better take in the sight before them. From the outside, it appears to be a western-style club, that of which tourists and locals are milling in and out of with ease. Lights are flashing from deep within beyond the windows, and a sandwich board is propped open near the door indicating that the club was having a “200 yen beer pint” special that had started ten minutes prior to their arrival.

Akaashi steps aside, bumping shoulders with Kuroo, as a couple exits the club and brushes past them. He catches Bokuto’s eye who in turn nods his head in the direction of the door and leads them in. Knowing full well that Bokuto’s path is set straight ahead and there’s no use in fighting him, Akaashi sighs and follows, Kuroo a step behind.

As they all make it past the initial security checkpoint, they each rent a small locker to store their jackets in before heading further inside.

Despite the general warmth of the interior and the way the additional bodies only make it hotter, Akaashi can’t help but bring his hands up to cross over his chest and rub at his arms. In place of kneading his fingers, it acts as a nervous habit he mindlessly hopes will make him shrink in size. Even though there are a handful of tourists wandering about that are his height or taller, he feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb.

It’s not his first time attending a club, and certainly not his first time at a bar, both of which he had attended with Bokuto and some other old teammates when they last scheduled a meetup, but this time feels off. Like his internal axis had been tilted and spun round and round, leaving him light headed and dizzy. Maybe it’s the high ceiling and flashing lights and loud music. Maybe it’s the two men grinding on each other a few feet away near the edge of the dancefloor as the DJ blares something currently indecipherable to Akaashi’s ears.

Or maybe it’s the way Kuroo has pushed the sleeves to his sweater up to his elbows, toned forearms catching the vibrant pinks, purples, and blues of the lights overhead.

The two of them stand side-by-side having already lost Bokuto in the crowd surrounding the bar, and Akaashi is suddenly aware of the lack of space between them. Kuroo’s thumbs are tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, and when someone walking past bumps into Akaashi, Akaashi steps on Kuroo’s foot attempting to move out of the way. Before he can back away and issue an apology, he feels one of Kuroo’s arms come up to wrap around his back, grabbing his arm to steady him in place.

“You okay?” Kuroo asks, retracting his arm a moment later, glaring over the crowd in an attempt to spot Bokuto’s familiar head of hair.

Akaashi can vaguely hear him mutter something along the lines of ‘ _where is that horned owl bastard?_ ’ when someone toes his calf from behind. Turning his head, he finds Bokuto standing there, beaming, and holding three pints in his hands. He leads them away from the bar towards an empty standing high-top further in, placed between the wall and the dancefloor. He sets the three glasses down before spreading two across the table top to both Kuroo and Akaashi.

They stand and sip their respective beers as couples, groups, and even individuals dance around them. Akaashi still has no idea what Bokuto was thinking in bringing them here, but it’s as Kuroo was reading his mind, because a breath later he says, voiced raised so the table can hear him:

“Alright, Bokuto. What’s this all about?”

Bokuto shrugs and takes a sip before responding, voice raised to match Kuroo’s own to have his voice heard over the shrill laughter of a woman at the table beside them. “I just thought it would be fun!”

Akaashi has to keep from rolling his eyes. _Fun?_ He always knew Bokuto was all about that, but their definitions of _fun_ were drastically different. However, by the way the lights shine in Bokuto’s eyes, the way he laughs and smiles like nothing else in the world matters besides _here_ and _now_ … the way Akaashi’s heart lurches when Kuroo reaches forward to punch Bokuto’s shoulder with a laugh… he can’t help but think that this may be... _bearable_.

And with _bearable_ comes room for improvement, he tells himself as he lifts his glass and chugs his beer. Especially after the sobering feeling from earlier having rattled him to his core. _He_ knows that _Bokuto_ knows that if he displayed ever a modicum of discomfort in any of this, he’d willingly have them leave and go do something else. But much like Akaashi had expressed to Kuroo at karaoke, he likes being able to not only see Bokuto, but see him _happy_ like this.

When he lowers the glass, both Bokuto and Kuroo’s eyes are on him again, much like they were earlier when he downed his first beer. He sighs and shudders as he suppresses a hiccup before giving the bar a tentative look.

“I’ll be right back,” he says before heading over. It takes a few minutes to exchange his empty glass for a full one, and by the time he returns to the table, Bokuto and Kuroo are nowhere to be found. He glances around in confusion, and makes a mental note to chastise the both of them for leaving their half-full beers unattended in the middle of a club.

His eyes scan the crowd on the dancefloor until he spots a familiar tuft of white hair. Though it is now painted pink and blue under the overhead lights, it is most certainly Bokuto’s as Kuroo’s pops into view a second later.

Akaashi lets out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, and allows himself to shrink against the wall as he nurses his new beer. With it, the gentle buzz beneath his skin starts to return, and he keeps his gaze locked on his two friends as they dance together amongst the tourists to some upbeat J-pop song the DJ is playing.

At one point just before a beat drop, from what Akaashi can make out, the song states to “go dumb and dumber.” He watches as Bokuto and Kuroo point at one another, and it earns a loud, genuine laugh from Akaashi in turn.

 _How fitting_ , he thinks as the two get caught up in the way the crowd is jumping to the beat. 

They stay out there through the end of the song and the entirety of a second, and then a third. At one point, Akaashi sneaks out his phone to take a picture in which the two have joined their hands in an attempt at slow dancing with one another to an otherwise upbeat song. The people surrounding them are moving fast enough to work as a blur that frame the two, and Akaashi finds himself smiling down at his phone when they finally make their way back to the table after their third song, breathless. Bokuto looks ready for round two, while Kuroo’s cheeks are pink and his hair is tousled to a greater degree than his usual bedhead.

Akaashi snorts at the sight, lowering his gaze back to his phone, and covers his mouth as the giggles spill out after it.

When he drops his hand once the giggles subside, a light smile lingers on his lips. Regaining his composure, he raises his head and catches Kuroo’s eye once more, and notices how his pink cheeks have brightened to a slightly darker red. Kuroo is the first to break as he excuses himself to get another beer, taking his still half-full one back to the bar with him. As he steps away from the table, Bokuto turns to Akaashi and grins.

“Alright, Akaashi! It’s your turn!” he cheers, acting as if he hadn’t just danced his heart out for over ten minutes straight.

A quiet whine vibrates in the back of Akaashi’s throat in mild retaliation as he takes a sip of his beer. With his best friend before him, lip poking out in a slight pout as he reaches forward to grab Akaashi’s elbow, Akaashi closes his eyes and sighs with a sharp nod.

“Only one,” he says, holding up a finger for emphasis. He can already feel the way his ears tingle in preemptive embarrassment, but the way Bokuto shines almost blindingly before him is convincing enough that this is for the best. “Let me finish my beer first, though. Unlike you, I know better than to leave it unattended in the middle of a club,” he follows up as he tugs his elbow from Bokuto’s hold and lifts the pint.

Bokuto waits patiently, smiling as he shifts to watch the people on the dancefloor who are cheering and singing off-key to a popular anime opening Akaashi recognizes from a couple years back. At one point, Bokuto waves across to Kuroo who is still at the bar; Kuroo, in turn, draws a small heart in the air with his finger before blowing a kiss back in Bokuto’s direction. Bokuto pretends to catch it and presses it to his heart with a laugh.

The entire exchange is short and unabashedly _them_ , but Akaashi can’t help but smile as it warms his heart to watch. He finishes his beer while Bokuto’s attention is still on the crowd in front of him, and after setting his empty glass down, he steps around the table, takes Bokuto by the elbow, and steps towards the dancefloor.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelps in surprise, quickly covering it up with a laugh as he jumps forward a step to catch up with him and smiles. “I wasn’t expecting you to give in that easily. I thought I was gonna have to pry a little harder,” he teases and leads them into an opening in the middle of a few different groups; it’s small, but large enough for the two of them to fit in together.

Akaashi shrugs which leads into rolling his shoulders and tilting his head from side to side to crack it. “You’re my best friend,” he admits, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the music, shifting into some English song that has him clapping to the beat, but still quiet enough that Bokuto has to lean into hear him. “I can put aside my discomfort for a short time if it means making you happy.”

Liquid courage leads to loose lips, and loose lips leads to Bokuto smiling so wide his eyes squint closed. 

Akaashi allows himself to flourish beneath his glow.

They dance and step on each other's toes and knock into other people, and Akaashi thinks it’s some of the most fun he’s had in a long while. When the song ends, Bokuto doesn’t push for another, but instead leads them off the floor and back to the table where Kuroo is cradling a pint in one hand while looking at something on his phone with the other. As they approach, his eyes lift from his screen and he offers them a smile before pocketing his phone.

It’s Bokuto’s turn to excuse himself, saying he’s off to find the restroom and then get another beer. As he toddles off, weaving through the crowd, Kuroo and Akaashi are left standing at the table, reminiscent of their time spent waiting outside the convenience store just a short time prior.

The realization occurs to Akaashi, and he rolls his forearm towards him to read his watch. With as many beers deep as he’s currently in, the arms on the watch face come across as a clustered mess; they don’t read any better when he removes his glasses to rub at his eyes, either. Giving up, he opts for his phone instead, reading the time off the home screen and pocketing it again when he sees that just over an hour has passed since they entered the club.

“Having fun?”

Kuroo’s sudden voice startles him, earning a laugh as he relaxes and lowers his shoulders from his ears.

“I was just checking the time,” Akaashi starts, and bites his tongue when Kuroo shakes his head. His cheeks are still a light shade of pink, Akaashi notices. He _also_ notices the way Kuroo’s hand reaches up to rub at the back of his neck as his gaze shifts down to the beer in his hand.

“No, I meant in general. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Akaashi considers the question, retracting his hands from the grip they have on his empty glass, not having realized he grabbed onto it to begin with. With his palms flat on the table, fingers spread and tapping lightly, he counts his fingers from pinky to pinky before raising his head and nodding.

“I am,” he finally admits with more confidence than normal. “I’m actually enjoying myself a lot.”

“That’s great to hear,” Kuroo nods in return before his eyes turn to watch the way Akaashi’s fingers continue to tap against the table top. “In that case, would you care to dance—?”

“I just did with Bokuto-sa—”

“—with me?”

They cut one another off, Kuroo not having finished his initial thought while Akaashi figured it was ending before it did.

Instantly, Akaashi’s heart starts pounding in his ears as he locks eyes with Kuroo. He blinks once, and then again. He gulps, and hopes it’s not as noticeable as it feels.

“I— I,” he curses himself for stuttering and curls his fingers beneath his palms on the table, nails digging into the skin as he tries to ground himself. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

A loud beat drops to whichever song the DJ is playing, so Kuroo leans in closer to Akaashi’s ear from around the table and raises his voice to be heard over the music: “I said, would you care to dance… with me?”

Akaashi shivers as Kuroo’s breath tickles the shell of his heated ear, and his nose scrunches as the smell of draft beer hits it.

When he finally faces Kuroo, Kuroo’s eyes are searching his own. Akaashi doesn’t realize his own are wide until they relax, and with another hopefully unnoticeable gulp, he nods.

“Alright.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up, but he’s quick to recover. Akaashi waits as Kuroo finishes his beer, and when he does, Kuroo clears his throat and nods in the direction of the dancefloor.

Akaashi follows his lead into the crowd, heart racing in his chest and only thumping harder and faster when Kuroo eventually turns to face him and offers his hand. Akaashi blinks at it, considers it, and finally, _nervously_ , reaches up to place his hand atop it. Given their proximity, he can hear the way Kuroo laughs at the gesture before pulling him towards him, and before Akaashi can tell where he’s going or what’s happening next, Kuroo twirls him to a song that he most definitely should not have twirled to.

Laughter bubbles up as Akaashi finds himself facing Kuroo by the end of the twirl, a smile tugging at his lips as his hand is still fit snug against Kuroo’s own. He can feel the heat from Kuroo’s intermingling with his own, albeit a little sweaty, and the fleeting thought that he’s glad his gloves have kept them safe crosses his mind.

Kuroo, painfully off-beat to the American pop song encasing them in this moment of time, takes Akaashi’s other hand and tugs his arms in an alternating motion to get him to shimmy his shoulders. Akaashi is unable to stop the bloom of warmth and joy that explodes from his chest and tickles him to the tips of his toes. A laugh rips itself from his chest as he allows Kuroo to continue working him like a ragdoll, and when he looks, he sees a dopey, lopsided grin on Kuroo’s face.

As minutes pass, another twirl complete for good measure, and the song begins to fade into another, Akaashi finds his cheeks beginning to hurt due to the seemingly permanent smile that found itself at home on them. Slowly, carefully, they begin to make their way back through the crowd to rejoin Bokuto, who’s turn it is now to man the table. 

Kuroo turns to say something just as someone roughly bumps into Akaashi from behind, knocking him forward and into Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo’s hands are quick to reach up and grip Akaashi’s elbows, steadying him with their faces centimeters apart. The smell of draft beer lingers near Akaashi’s nose again, and his eyes briefly dart down to Kuroo’s lips. It’s here where he watches them part as Kuroo asks if he’s alright. His eyes look elsewhere, specifically down at where his hands are placed, and he is suddenly very aware that they have found purchase on Kuroo’s hips as he caught himself from falling.

Which… he finds ironic as the lyrics from the current song ring loud in his ears:

... _but if I fall for you, I’ll never recover; if I fall for you, I’ll never be the same…_

His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth as he retracts his hands, muttering a quiet apology that gets lost in the noise of the crowd.

With one hand still on Akashi’s elbow, Kuroo leads them the remainder of the way to the edge where the crowd thins out and they can see Bokuto at their table. Kuroo’s hand releases Akaashi’s elbow as he tucks them into the front pockets of his jeans, and despite the absence of warmth, Akaashi can still feel his skin burning beneath his sweater.

When Bokuto sees them returning, he shoots a thumbs up in their direction, and Akaashi feels the warmth doubling in his chest as the skin of his hands sting a prickly reminder of the way Kuroo had held them just moments prior.

“Hey!” Bokuto greets when they step over, and Akaashi immediately picks up on the worry in his eyes and the crease in his brow. “My sister just texted me asking when we’d be leaving. I guess it’s gotten pretty bad outside in the past hour. I hate having to cut the night early, but we might want to try and get home soon in case it gets worse.”

All three come to an agreement quickly, plus Akaashi is counting on the cool air outside to ease the burning sensation that has spread from his elbows across every square inch of skin on his body.

Bokuto closes his tab at the bar before they duck into the small locker area near the entrance to claim their coats, bundle up, and head outside.

Sure enough, snow has begun to pile atop the low stone walls around the area. The streets are quiet now, save for the murmuring of other club-goers from up and down the strip trying to make their ways back home and the distinct crunching of snow beneath their boots.

In just the few seconds they’ve been outside, Akaashi finds himself having to hold Bokuto from diving directly into the pristice snow settled in the neighboring alleyway to make a snow angel.

“C’mon, Bokuto-san,” he huffs, tugging him away by the bicep as Bokuto pouts. “You better get home before the snow picks back up. We’re lucky it stopped when it did. If you choose to throw yourself into the snow when you’re home, well, I won’t be there to stop you.”

Bokuto laughs, and with the way the alcohol continues to buzz throughout Akaashi’s body, he’s sure he sees sparkles surrounding the immediate area around Bokuto; his eyes twinkle as smile lines make themselves known beside them. A moment later he’s pulled into a hug by the shoulder alongside Kuroo. It’s stuffy and awkward, but warm, and Akaashi finds he doesn’t mind it. Bokuto insists on taking a photo together before they part, already having his phone out and at the ready. Bokuto has his left arm around Akaashi’s shoulders, squeezing him into his side with his right arm stretched outward with his phone. Kuroo sneaks into the frame on Akaashi’s left, and despite the warmth radiating around him, a chill runs down Akaashi’s spine with the way Kuroo’s torso leans into him. After making sure to capture a few, Akaashi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket once Bokuto drops them all into their group chat.

Kuroo feigns a sniffle when Bokuto pulls away and issues them each a hug individually, starting with him first.

“Hopefully I’ll get to see you guys sooner rather than later next time,” Bokuto says while patting Kuroo on the back. “You’re graduating in a couple months, right? Maybe I’ll see you around then!”

As Kuroo confirms, Bokuto then turns to Akaashi, and it’s as if a brick hits him in the gut with the way Bokuto smiles at him. He’s drawn into a hug, warm and secure, and though it knocks the wind out of him like the force of nature Bokuto is, he finds himself not wanting to break away.

Akaashi’s fingers grip tight to the fabric of the back of Bokuto’s jacket, and he tunes out the way Bokuto’s teasing laughter rings in his ears and the way his hand rubs circles on his back.

After what simultaneously feels like a lifetime and not long enough, Akaashi finally pulls away and brings his hands to Bokuto’s shoulders as he holds him at arm's length. His chest swells with a sense of pride at the person his best friend has become, and he’s sure to voice that now as Kuroo tucks his chin into the fabric of Akaashi’s scarf to hide the way he’s smiling at the two.

“I’m incredibly proud of you, Bokuto-san. I know I may not say it enough, but I am, and I hope you know that despite it all.”

Bokuto laughs as he drags him into another quick squeeze and reaches up to ruffle his hair.

“I’m proud of you too, Akaashi! And you don’t have to worry about that, because I know. I have known! For many years now, actually,” Bokuto confirms with a final pat against Akaashi’s back, firm enough to scare any of his worries away that he might not be as open and vocal with his best friend as he need be.

Akaashi tries to hide his very real sniffle as he readjusts his glasses after Bokuto dislodged them during their hug.

A few flakes of snow begin falling around them then, and Bokuto faces the sky with another laugh.

“Aside from Kuroo’s graduation, I might be able to come visit a couple more weekends between games and practices and what not. One of those times, we should try and get enough people together to play a game! I’m convinced Tsum-tsum’s sets don’t have anything on yours Akaashi, and I gotta prove it to him!”

Akaashi laughs, though it’s more of a stuffy wheeze as he tries to keep tears from spilling over. “I’d have to check my schedule whenever that may be, but I would enjoy that very much, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto gestures in the opposite direction from the Lawson where they had met up, saying that he originally came from that way on his way to meet them. With one final beam filling Akaashi with the entire warmth of the sun, Bokuto waves as he pads off, rounding the first corner and ducking out of sight.

The snow comes a little faster as Akaashi makes sure his jacket is zipped to his chin before glancing at Kuroo and then facing the opposite direction.

“Shall we?”

Kuroo simply nods as they fall into step together and traverse the sidewalk that has become packed enough with snow, given the amount of people going to and fro, that patches of ice lay in wait beneath them thanks to the drop in temperature.

They move carefully, avoiding tourists bustling by them on the open side of the sidewalk. From his peripheral, Akaashi watches as one of them slips, gripping onto the sleeve of their companion who in turn braces against the storefront they’re passing by. He sighs into the collar of his jacket, watching where he’s walking and trying to mentally calculate the time it should take them to arrive based on their pace and what he can remember from how long it had initially taken them to get to the club.

His brain fails him though, unable to compute simple math given the numerous beers now sitting in his stomach. Just as he’s about to pull his phone from his pocket to input their destination into the map to have it do the work for him, Kuroo’s own phone rings and it veers Akaashi’s last working brain cell away from his train of thought, effectively crashing it in the process.

As Kuroo answers the call and raises the phone to his ear, Akaashi hears him say “Hey, Kenma. What’s up?” into it.

Their already slow pace comes to an even slower crawl as Kuroo’s brows furrow as he listens to whatever it is Kozume has to say on the other end.

“Alright, we’re actually headed home for the night… Yeah, Bokuto’s sister texted him saying it had been getting worse outside. The snow’s just starting to come back down and it’s a little icy, but hopefully we’re back before it gets worse… Thanks for letting me know. ‘Night.”

Kuroo apologizes as he pockets his phone and continues forward, waiting the briefest of seconds to make sure Akaashi is following him before crossing the street.

“Everything alright?” Akaashi asks as he remembers to check how long it’ll take them to get to the station. The map says it shouldn’t be any longer than a fifteen minute walk, but considering their current predicament, he adds another five as a precaution.

“Oh, Kenma lost power and was calling to ask if I had as well. We live close enough that typically when one goes, so does the other. If I did, it’s gonna suck. It’s gotten pretty damn _cold_ in the past hour,” Kuroo says with a tut, burrowing further into Akaashi’s scarf.

It’s then that an idea twinkles to life so far in the back of Akaashi’s mind that he could easily misinterpret it as the moonlight reflecting off the snow beneath their feet. He knows better though. He knows to reach out and grab it between his hands. He knows, heart beginning to race once again as his head spins, to ask:

“Why don’t you come over and we can check mine?”

For a brief moment, the spinning stops — in fact, _everything_ stops. Flakes of snow seem to suspend in the air around him as Kuroo’s footsteps fall silent at his side. Akaashi comes to a stop a step ahead, biting the inside of his cheek as he balls his fists in his pockets to check over his shoulder.

Kuroo is staring back, looking dumbfounded as his jaw hangs open with no words coming out.

Akaashi quickly considers the implication and quickly turns back forward to hide the way a warm shade of red blooms across his cheeks. Regaining his composure, he follows up.

“I live closer, anyway. If my power is on, and you say there’s a possibility that you may have lost yours if Kozume did, then it would be no use to you to go home in such a state. It would be better to stay somewhere warm, correct? Especially since, like you said, it’s gotten colder. You can stay the night, I don’t mind. Think of it as payback for the food and coffee earlier. And on the off chance that my power has gone out, too… well, I have some spare blankets.”

With that, he chances a look over his shoulder and nods, to which Kuroo nods back without complaint.

“Now, shall we continue?”

Bokuto always used to point out how much bolder he got while drunk, and Akaashi would laugh it off as nonsense. However, as Kuroo falls back into step beside him as they continue down the street toward the station, he can’t help but wonder that maybe Bokuto was right.

They continue in silence, accidentally knocking shoulders as they step out of the way of others. With each touch ignites another spark that dips beneath Akaashi’s skin and careens around his stomach, unsettling the butterflies that reside there and causing them to flutter about.

After about fifteen minutes of careful wandering, Akaashi hears a _plink_ from one of the nearby shops. As he turns to look, he hears another across the street. One — two — three _plink plink plinks_ resound in the area, and a fourth drops square in the middle of his head.

His hand immediately shoots up to cover it, feeling another piece of sleet to hit his knuckle. He hisses at the impact and raises the other to better try and cover his head. There are no nearby shops with awnings for them to take shelter under, and plenty of people have already ducked into the alleyways in hopes that the buildings will take the brunt of the onslaught. Another piece of sleet hits the frame of his glasses, earning a curse under his breath, and skewing them to the point of nearly knocking them from his face. 

He’s considering his options when suddenly, the stinging on the backs of his hands comes to a stop and the sound around them muffles — gentle plinking against something soft. When he comes to his senses, he notices just how close Kuroo is standing to him, and that his arms are raised above his head. That’s not the only thing Akaashi notices. Kuroo has removed his jacket and is holding it above both of their heads, shielding them from the sleet.

It takes a moment for Akaashi to register the gesture, and when he does, his face morphs into one of absolute bewilderment.

“Kuroo-san, what are you _doing_? You’ll catch your death like that!”

Kuroo chuckles as he shifts closer when a piece of sleet drops onto Akaashi’s shoulder, adjusting his jacket to make sure he’s better covered.

“Nearly lost your eyes there, Akaashi. Can’t have my soon-to-be-host going blind on me,” he says in a teasing tone, and from this distance Akaashi can see the way Kuroo’s cheeks have reddened.

“First of all,” Akaashi breathes, holding Kuroo’s gaze as to not think too much into the blush just below it, “don’t _ever_ say it like that again. And second, I could just as easily take my glasses off and this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes before lightly hip checking Akaashi forward to get him to keep moving. “Yeah, exactly what I just said. From what I distinctly remember, you told me that you started wearing glasses since you shouldn’t see. It’s better if you just keep them on.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes in turn, though his is accompanied with a quiet scoff as he says, “And _I distinctly_ remember telling you _immediately_ afterwards that it was a _joke_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kuroo says as they continue walking, “Plus, I’m not all that worried about the cold since you have all these spare blankets.”

Akaashi can only huff in reply as he refocuses his attention between the intervening ice on the sidewalk and the people walking around them. When he’s looking down, a careless passerby knocks into his shoulder, causing Akaashi’s foot to awkwardly catch on a small patch of ice and sending him painfully into Kuroo’s side. He instinctively reaches up to grab hold of Kuroo’s shirt, cursing under his breath once again before immediately apologizing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuroo says. Just as Akaashi releases his hold, he hears Kuroo utter, “You can hold on if that makes it easier.”

Another rush of heat encompasses Akaashi’s entire body as his arm hovers mere centimeters from Kuroo. He’s hesitant, he’s sore, he’s tired and he’s cold, and he’s _nervous_. And yet the unmistakable twinkling in the back of his mind shines brighter now as he swallows and slowly brings his arm back around Kuroo’s waist. It takes his fingers longer to find themselves able to rest against Kuroo’s side, but when they do it’s like sparks erupt from the tips.

“Thank you, Kuroo-san,” he nearly whispers, to which Kuroo hums in acknowledgement and they continue on their way. As they move, a vision of Akaashi losing his footing and knocking the both of them to the ground dances in his mind’s eye. In said fantasy, he lands atop Kuroo where their mouths find themselves centime— _no._

No.

There isn’t time for this.

Akaashi shakes the image from his head as best he can, though the aftermath of it quickens the speed of his racing heart.

Eventually — _finally_ — they arrive at the station with a few minutes to spare. Akaashi directs them to the appropriate line, and they wait amongst the growing crowd before boarding.

By now, Kuroo has his jacket back on, and he’s rubbing his arms as their ride comes to a stop in front of them. Akaashi watches, frowning, and with a tut says “You really didn’t need to take your jacket off to begin with, Kuroo-san. We would have been fine.”

As they cross the threshold onto the train and shuffle between the other occupants to grab at an open expanse of the overhead handrail, Kuroo gives a reassuring grin and retaliates with “What’s done is done, Akaashi. Don’t worry about it. If you’re still worrying about it by the time we get back, I _could_ go for some tea.”

Akaashi nods and the train jerks forward, knocking him lightly into Kuroo for which he finds himself apologizing again. “Tea is doable,” he confirms before gripping the above handrail tight enough that his knuckles go white.

They fall into silence, and Akaashi listens to the murmuring of fellow passengers. Some whine about the snow, some doze off on the shoulders of their companions, some play music a little too loud for their headphones, but all-in-all, the journey is quiet enough that it doesn’t add to the slight yet present throbbing at the forefront of Akaashi’s skull. He closes his eyes and lowers his head as the bright lights in the car causes them to strain.

If Kuroo notices Akaashi’s growing discomfort, he doesn’t say anything; given the turmoil Akaashi has been processing for the past few hours, he silently prays it stays that way.

Their silence continues throughout their arrival at their stop, during the walk from the station to Akaashi’s apartment, and once the door is unlocked and they step inside (Akaashi tries the lights and sighs in relief when they turn on); Kuroo offers a nod and politely thanks Akaashi for having him.

With their jackets off and hung up, Akaashi pads into the kitchen and prepares his electric kettle to make tea. The sound of quiet shuffling draws his attention over his shoulder, and he watches Kuroo stand near the table, looking unsure of what to do.

Akaashi swallows over the growing lump in his throat as he turns his attention back to the kettle, watching the water level from the thin measurement window as it remains undisturbed.

“You can take a shower or a bath if you’d like,” he offers, voice quiet as the hiss of the kettle slowly picks up. “You’re probably freezing from having your jacket off. I’ll try and find some clothes that’ll fit you while you do.”

“It wasn’t a problem, Akaashi. Really,” Kuroo starts to retaliate, but ends with a sigh. “But a shower does sound nice, if you don’t mind.”

Akaashi shakes his head as he steps away from the kettle, past Kuroo and towards his bedroom.

“There is a spare towel in the linen closet, please feel free to help yourself. I’ll leave a change of clothes outside the door for when you’re done.”

He slowly closes the door upon entering his room, hands pressed firmly against the frame as he waits for the gentle _click_ of the wash room’s down the hall. When he hears the running of water that follows shortly after, his forehead comes to rest against the door with a sigh.

“Not your brightest idea, Keiji,” he mutters under his breath, forcing himself away and towards his closet. He pushes aside his growing collection of sweaters and cardigans, and plucks an old, worn navy t-shirt from one of the hangers. The Fukurodani lettering on the breast has faded over the years, now worn solely as a bed shirt as opposed to anything as strenuous as playing volleyball. As he runs his thumb over it, a fond smile settles on his lips. From the corner of his eye, he spots a hint of red hanging to the edge of his bed. Lifting his gaze, he’s reminded of Kuroo’s hoodie that he had been wearing before meeting up and had tossed aside while changing.

His attention flickers back and forth between the article of clothing in his hands and the hoodie on his bed. Taking a step forward, he grabs the hoodie and stuffs it into his closet, draping the t-shirt over his shoulder as he looks for a pair of sweatpants long enough to fit Kuroo’s long legs.

_Kuroo’s long legs..._

Before any inkling of a thought can sprout from that, Akaashi quickly drops into a squatting position, elbows on his knees with his face buried into his hands.

“ _Stop it,_ ” he whines, fingers running into his hair to grip at it. If he knew coming to terms with developing a crush on one Kuroo Tetsuro would lead to the rapid spiraling of his mental state, he would have feigned sickness and opted out of hanging out with him and Bokuto.

He has to push it aside, he tells himself as he picks up the shirt and pair of black joggers he had dropped on the floor during his collapse. He folds them and sets them atop one another on the edge of his bed and changes into a plain white t-shirt and similar pair of black joggers as he hears the kettle scream from the kitchen.

Hearing the still-running water from behind the closed door, Akaashi places the pile of clothes outside before attending to the whistling kettle. Moments later, as he sets aside two mugs along with an assortment of tea bags,the wash room door quietly opens and Kuroo’s voice echoes down the hall.

“Hey, do you have those— oh, nevermind. I see them.”

The door shuts with another soft _click_ and Akaashi briefly closes his eyes, but a manifested mental image of Kuroo standing shirtless in the doorway seers itself into the back of his eyelids, and—

 **_NO_ ** **.**

He quickly grabs a random tea bag when the door opens again, having noticed he spent a minute staring at the steam billowing from the kettle’s spout, hoping it would carry away any residual mental image that remained in his head. He feels Kuroo’s presence creeping up behind him as he steeps the tea bag, and he wills the hairs on the back of his neck not to stand on end with Kuroo now beside him and reaching forward for the other mug.

“Fukurodani shirt, huh?” Kuroo teases as he grabs a chamomile tea bag from the lot and sets it inside. “This payback for my hoodie or something?”

“It was the first clean shirt I grabbed,” Akaashi admits— _lies_ —as he takes the empty tea wrappers from the counter and drops them in the trash. 

“Well, anyway, thanks for letting me use your shower. I guess I was a little colder than I thought, but I feel better now,” Kuroo says while pouring his own water and watching the tea bag bob slightly at the surface.

“What is with you and seemingly _trying_ to catch a cold, Kuroo-san. You really should know bet—” Akaashi starts until he finally lifts his gaze to look at Kuroo, and _oh_. 

He should have expected what the aftermath of a shower would entail. Even after years of knowing Bokuto, seeing him with his hair down would still occasionally catch him off guard; with Kuroo, though, Akaashi is confident it’s the first time he’s seen _him_ in such a state, and it looks… well…

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asks, making Akaashi realize he’s been staring.

... _cute_.

“—weird.”

“Huh?” Kuroo’s blinks, baffled, before raising a brow that gets lost in the bangs covering his forehead.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without your hair reaching towards high heaven,” Akaashi follows up, saving him from further embarrassment. “It’s weird.”

 _Cute_.

Kuroo looks completely taken aback by the comment, and Akaashi uses that as an opening to excuse himself from the kitchen to go sit at the kotatsu in the other room where he turns the television on and occupies himself with absentmindedly staring at it.

Moments later, Kuroo finds himself settling down at the side of the table adjacent to Akaashi. Their knees knock as he scoots them under the blanket, but Akaashi’s too busy focusing to care; despite that though, he picks up on the way that Kuroo’s knee remains where it is, and almost feels like it presses in closer to him.

Minutes pass, and eventually, Akaashi’s attention shifts from the television back to Kuroo, who in turn is watching whatever comedy program is currently on the screen with a smile on his face.

He watches him, taking in the way the corners of Kuroo’s eyes crinkle when he smiles too wide, the way his chest and shoulders shake before any sound of laughter escapes his lips, the way the ends of his hair subtly begin to turn up as they begin to dry. Then his eyes fall to the faded lettering on his chest, and momentarily he’s transported back to high school.

While his thoughts wander, Kuroo’s voice gently brings him back to reality when he asks, “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

Akaashi’s gaze lifts from the shirt up to Kuroo’s eyes, back down to the shirt, and finally to his mug which he lifts to his lips to take a sip.

“...Just that it might have been nice to have you with us at Fukurodani.”

“Oh? Do tell,” Kuroo pries with a teasing smile.

Akaashi hesitates, but the overwhelming sense of _everything_ — every thought, every emotion, every feeling — that he experienced that night weighs down on him, causing his usual composed facade to begin to crack.

“Despite how often you’d rile Bokuto-san up, I think you would have been helpful in reeling him back in when need be and helping keep him from getting mopey like he used to before overcoming it… Not that he isn’t in an absolutely phenomenal place now with all his hard work, but I’m sure he would’ve been able to achieve even more if you were there by his side…” The ‘ _maybe we would have won Nationals_ ’ dies on the tip of his tongue, and he swallows it down with another sip of tea.

When he finds the confidence to look back up after such a sudden confession he wasn’t even aware of existing, that he blames entirely on the alcohol still making its way through his body, his heart jumps into his throat and nearly out of his mouth at the way Kuroo is staring at him.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Kuroo admits as he reaches over and takes the remote to mute the television. “Is that all stuff you really still worry about?”

The next breath Akaashi lets out is shaky as he keeps his hands flat against the table to keep from fidgeting with them. “It’s a thought that comes and goes,” he says after another breath, counting the knuckles on his left hand before moving over to his right, “Not as often as it used to, and not necessarily just _you_ , but _anyone_ really.”

There’s a silence that is only interrupted by a gust of wind rattling his window; it’s a sound that resonates with the way his heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s making every bone in his body shake.

“Coach Nekomata thought highly of you for being able to reign Bokuto in when necessary, y’know. You were more than capable, and it showed.”

Kuroo’s voice is soft yet unyielding as he speaks. The statement causes Akaashi’s head to lift and a brow to raise in confusion, clearly taken aback.

No words are needed for Kuroo to nod his head in affirmation and continue.

“Yeah. Hell, even Kenma used to tell me about how shortie would tell him all the times their setter would borderline praise you or get this constipated look on his face whenever Tsukki mentioned working with you those times we dragged him into extra practice with us at camp.”

Akaashi chuckles weakly, remembering Tsukishima’s disgruntled face the first time Kuroo needled him into working with them after the daily practices had ended.

“Now I know you must be making that up, Kuroo-san. Always the provocation master-”

“Except I’m being serious.”

Akaashi blinks, still taken aback. Another worn laugh bursts from his chest as he shakes his head.

“If that’s the case, it’s hilarious how I used to compare myself to him, and even Miya Atsumu, and how I could never compete with them.”

Kuroo looks like he was hit with a bucket of cold water with the way his head shakes and his eyes widen in disbelief before his brows scrunch together and his voice drops low in the otherwise quiet room.

“You’re kidding, right? You were a phenomenal setter, Akaashi. You helped carry the team to second in Japan. And don’t even try to say it was all Bokuto or anything like that, because then during your captaincy you brought the team to Nationals _again_. You were just as important to the team as that idiot.”

Tears prickle the corner of Akaashi’s eyes, causing him to laugh and brush them away.

“Well, thank you, Kuroo-san. It’s definitely nice to hear no matter how many years later,” he says, voice shaky and a little stuffy as he sniffs.

His body tenses at the way Kuroo reaches out and pats the top of the hand he still has pressed firmly against the table, but it doesn’t linger the way their knees do. Akaashi pushes aside the thought of turning his hand up and curling his fingers into Kuroo’s as the hand draws back; instead, he sniffs again and takes another sip of tea, his mug nearly empty now.

“...you really admire him, don’t you? Bokuto, obviously,” Kuroo asks, and Akaashi hums in agreement, finishing his tea and allowing his eyes to fall closed with a fleeting smile on his lips.

“He is the best friend I ever could have hoped for. For as many times as we were there for him when he was a mopey mess, he was there for me and the others as well. You know just as well as I the kind of person he is. He’s always bringing the morale of everyone in his orbit up. He’s intoxicating in his own way. It’s hard to get down on yourself too much when you’re in his presence. And despite not having the broadest of vocabularies, he always has a way with words.”

Kuroo exhales through his nose and smiles at that. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“I don’t know if this is something he ever told you, but after our loss at nationals, he gave us this grandiose speech about how thankful he was to have been on a team with each of us. Well… As grandiose as Bokuto-san could manage—” another laugh from Kuroo “—He told us about how back in middle school, he was always not necessarily left behind by his teammates, but left _ahead_. No one wanted to keep up with him. But then when he went to Fukurodani, he met people who were not only able to keep up with him, but put him in his place when need be. Thinking back to my first year when Bokuto-san first started taking a liking to me and even suckering me into doing extra practice with him, I’m glad I never backed out of it. Despite how tiring it was, and despite Konoha-san saying he’d help come up with excuses, I feel that would’ve hurt Bokuto-san even more. He told me his mood swings only started happening after this one particular instance in middle school, and that he wasn’t always like that — getting down over every seemingly miniscule thing, I mean. Exuberant, maybe, but never a mopey mess like we knew him to be...”

He senses the way his voice starts quivering the longer he rambles on, and he has to bring his hand up to wipe at the tears threatening the corners of his eyes again. He utters a ‘ _sorry_ ’ under his breath as he silently curses himself for going on a tangent about his deep, internal thoughts he’d kept to himself for years.

Before he knows it, Kuroo pipes up.

“You know, we all used to joke about you two being soulmates back during camp. _I_ used to think you had a crush on the idiot, but now I see it’s nothing more than genuine admiration and pride.”

Akaashi lowers his hand back to the table and turns his attention to the window, watching a new flurry of snowflakes descend from the sky.

“I have always believed two people can be soulmates platonically without being romantically involved with one another. I do believe my soul was drawn to Bokuto-san to some degree. I had attended one of his games during my final year of middle school, just as I was deciding where I should go for high school. That day was a real eye opener.”

He chuckles, eyes closing now as a smile curls at the corners of his lips.

“Even to this day I think of Bokuto-san as a star. He never stops shining. I didn’t go to Fukurodani for any great purpose, but I’m really glad that’s where I ended up.”

Kuroo is silent for a moment before he says, “And how does all of this make you feel now?”

Akaashi takes a moment and considers the years of admiration and pride and _love_ , before responding with “...if Bokuto were truly my soulmate, I don’t see myself having any problem with that. I would find myself rather fortunate… lucky, even. I’m lucky to have him in my life, and I can only hope he feels the same. If I were born from the same stardust, I think that would be incredibly special. It makes me want to think more highly of myself, as highly as I think of him.”

Before the conversation can turn even more convoluted and deeply personal, Akaashi stands with his empty mug and heads towards the kitchen. “Now, shall we get to bed? It’s gotten late.”

Kuroo follows behind, placing his mug beside Akaashi’s in the sink before turning to look back at the living area.

“I have a large enough bed that we can share it,” Akaashi says with a subdued hesitance when he sees Kuroo looking at the pitifully small sofa pressed against the wall behind his kotatsu. “If I’m too tall to lay across that, then _you_ are _certainly_ too tall.”

Kuroo’s eyes boggle and he gapes like a fish out of water, prompting Akaashi to continue.

“I would offer you a futon, but I took my spare home over winter break when I was staying with my parents. They didn’t have enough, and we had a majority of our extended family staying over this year. I had to forfeit my old bed to be polite and I wasn’t able to bring the futon back. The only other thing I can’t offer you is a spare toothbrush. Now, c’mon.”

After shutting off the television and the lights, Akaashi leads Kuroo into his bedroom. By this point, the dull throbbing of his head has subsided enough that keeping his eyes open no longer hurts, but he’s more than ready to close them and pass out. He draws the comforter and top sheets to his queen-sized bed back (a gift to himself when he first moved into the apartment so he would have more room to roll around at night), and notices from his peripheral that Kuroo has stopped in his doorway and is uncharacteristically and rather sheepishly wringing his hands in a fashion similar to the way Akaashi sometimes finds himself doing.

“ _C’mon_ ,” he urges again before his head and heart can betray him any further, and it’s enough to get Kuroo to cross the threshold and instead stand a couple feet into the room, hands now balled at his sides.

Akaashi rolls his eyes and steps around Kuroo to close the door and turn off the light. The reflection of the moon on snow outside illuminates the room enough, but not so much that the growing blush on Akaashi’s cheeks is visible. He clears his throat as he steps back around Kuroo and crawls onto the bed, feeling a dip in the mattress to his side not long after.

His heart is hammering in his chest, and he prays that Kuroo can’t hear or feel or even _sense_ it with the way their shoulders brush as they lie back, quick to scoot far enough away that their limbs don’t graze beneath the sheets.

It’s then that he realizes he forgot to take his glasses off, and huffs as he removes them from his face and quietly asks Kuroo to set them on the side table beside their phones. Their fingers, warm and slender and fidgety, clumsily fumble them as they’re passed off in the dark, and Akaashi hears Kuroo issue a quiet apology.

As they lie there, Akaashi finally wills his heart to settle as he stares at the ceiling.

“I can’t wait to see how you manage your famous bedhead,” Akaashi whispers after a few minutes, unsure as to whether Kuroo has fallen asleep yet or not.

His mental question is answered when Kuroo snorts softly and says, “Goodnight, Akaashi.”

Akaashi, allowing himself to smile hidden by the veil of night, rolls onto his side to face the wall. “Goodnight, Kuroo-san.”

He doesn’t know how long his mind races between a plethora of thoughts and fantasies, but eventually he finds himself falling asleep hyper aware of the heat Kuroo’s body is producing mere centimeters from his own.

***

Kuroo stirs, the after effects of last night's beers are weighing heavily in his skull, thrashing against it in a futile attempt of escaping. His eyes blink open slowly, and he groans quietly as sunlight peeks through the gap in the curtains and perfectly across his eyes. He draws one arm up to cover them and inhales heavily.

With his other hand, he makes to reach for his phone on the side table, but stills when he feels a slight resistance on his fingers. Slowly, he pulls his arm away from his eyes and uses it to instead lift the covers enough, and spares a glance down.

He freezes, gulps, and turns his gaze up towards Akaashi’s still sleeping face when he notices the way their pinky and ring fingers are loosely intertwined.

For a moment, he hesitates. He contemplates bringing his fingers back, but only enough so that they’re not wrapped around each other’s, so that he can sneak his hand beneath Akaashi’s and his fingers can gently encompass Akaashi’s own. He wants to know just how well their hands fit together, tired of using Akaashi’s gloves as a comparison. He wants to stroke the length of his middle finger, from knuckle to tip, wants to feel for _good_ if they’re really as soft as they look.

He wants, and he wants, and he _wants…_

And instead, he carefully pulls his hand away completely, and pulls himself from bed before turning to gently tuck the covers back around Akaashi.

For a moment, he watches him. He watches the way his shoulders rise and fall. The way his nose twitches and his brows furrow in his sleep. The way his lips softly smack as he rolls over — Kuroo holds his breath — and sighs as he settles back down. The motion catches Akaashi’s shirt under his weight, pulling the back collar to it down and exposing his nape.

Kuroo stares at it, soft and pale, and again he _wants_.

He picks his phone up to check the time as he quietly exits the room.

_8:19._

There’s a text from Kenma timestamped at 3:39 saying the power had come back on during the night, and he makes a mental note to scold him later for staying up that late.

He uses the restroom, hoping the loud flush doesn’t wake Akaashi. After washing his hands, he stands in the kitchen and considers his options, but once reality catches up to him, and he reminds himself that he isn’t living in a fantasy, he remembers his exams in the upcoming days.

He collects his clothes from last night, and scours the kitchen for a plastic bag to stick them in so he doesn’t look like he’s taking the walk of shame to the station. It’s when he’s standing before the fridge that an idea comes to mind.

…

Just under an hour later, when he exits the station near his apartment, he unlocks his phone. He’s about to text Akaashi to let him know he left, but hesitates.

Instead, he hits the ‘call’ button and raises his phone to his ear with a beating heart, waiting.

***

Akaashi stirs with a groan when the sound of his phone drags him from the world of sleep. He reaches out aimlessly until his fingers nudge it from where it lies atop the side table, nearly knocking it off in the process. When he brings it to his face, he tries to make out the enlarged contact photo through bleary eyes; when he realizes its Kuroo’s face staring back at him, he quickly sits up and gives his bed a once over, noticing he’s no longer there. Instantly, Akaashi accepts the call and brings it to his ear, attempting to rub sleep from his eyes with his other hand.

“Kuroo-san?” he croaks out, voice still lingering between his previous state of unconsciousness and existing in the present moment. “Did you leave already?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got a text from Kenma saying the power was back on in his area so I figured I’d check to see if mine was as well. I gotta get to studying since final exams start this week. Didn’t wanna overstay my welcome, either,” he chuckles and through the phone Akaashi can hear the soft _click_ of a door being unlocked and pushed open. The ambient noise surrounding Kuroo’s voice suddenly disappears with another soft _click_ ; at that, Akaashi assumes he’s already home.

“You could have just texted me, you know. Though I guess I do appreciate the wake up call. I better work on studying as—“

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Akaashi’s train of thought exits his brain with the sudden interruption, as one leg hangs out of his bed in an attempt to get up.

“—well. I… what?”

“Ah, nothing nothing. I left your scarf hanging with your jacket, thanks again for letting me use it — Oh! I made you some breakfast to show my appreciation for letting me stay over last night. I made sure to do the dishes, too, so you wouldn’t have to worry about them. I know it’s not really the same since it’s your food and all anyway, so I’ll treat you to lunch sometime after exams if you want?”

Akaashi’s standing in the kitchen, body tense as he reaches down and lifts the plastic wrap from a plate of omelets on the counter. Beside them rests a sticky note covered in rushed chicken scrawl handwriting: “Thank you! :)”

He swallows thickly, heart beating loudly in his ears. He can hardly hear Kuroo through the receiver asking if he’s still there, wondering if the call dropped.

“Lunch and dinner,” Akaashi states after a moment, guiding his shaky legs to the sofa in the other room to collapse on, instantly burying his face into his free hand.

“Huh?”

“Treat me to lunch and dinner after finals,” he clarifies, biting down on his lower lip.

A quiet ‘ah’ meets his ears followed by a soft chuckle.

“Alright then,” Kuroo says, and Akaashi swears he can hear the hint of a smile in his voice, “it’s a date.”

Before Akaashi can counter, Kuroo continues.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get started now. Just wanted to make sure you knew I left and saw the food. I guess I’ll have to show you my _actual_ bedhead another time,” another chuckle, “Well, good morning then, Akaashi. I’ll text you later about lunch and dinner.”

Akaashi can barely force out a quiet “study hard,” before the call ends and his phone drops to his lap, both his hands now used to hide his face.

Little does he know, Kuroo is in a similar position: body dropped to the ground with his back flush to the front door. His palms are pressed to his eyes with a dopey, toothy-grin spread across his lips.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feb. 4th 2021 PM EDIT -- MY DEAREST FRIEND OLIVE ( [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naniiamo/pseuds/Naniiamo/works) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Flakeandbake1) ) DROPPED [THIS GORGEOUS ART](https://twitter.com/Flakeandbake1/status/1357494209322905602) FOR CH. 5 ON MY LAP AS IF IT WERE NOTHING, PLEASE GO READ THEIR WORK AND ADMIRE THEIR ART ON TWITTER, THEY'RE TRULY AMAZING AS A PERSON AND A FRIEND, AND I HAVE BEEN CRYING FOR AN HOUR NOW. I've embedded it into the chapter itself, and gosh it's just sO PRETTY 🥺
> 
> ***
> 
> This fic was originally going to be Kuroo as the lead singer to an English 80s cover band with Tsukki, Semi, Yams, Yachi, Kenma, etc. etc. I scrapped it as I started writing the first bar scene, but I wanted to still honor Kuroo singing somehow, so here we are hehe. I was watching videos of karaoke in Japan on YouTube, and one in particular had Bon Jovi in the history bar, and considering Bon Jovi was originally what inspired singer!Kuroo, and in turn the birth of this fic, I couldn’t resist… I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to cry with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/stephtxt)! :)
> 
> I also have a playlist of time-appropriate songs that inspired this chapter on Spotify (above, or: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/51ReMHjEw7gz8ltQzmvhrK?si=gfs3kW_DQQuPCRRkeApC6w since it won't allow me to link the actual playlist) and [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4VIY9KTK1J4viPb6kTB7e6V32kniuRF5), if anyone is interested! :) 
> 
> Also, Electric Love is now a KuroAka song, and no one can take that away from me


End file.
